Back in the Ring
by Anfield
Summary: Started as a filler story taking place between "The End of the Beginning" and "Become Who You Are" and took on a life of it's own. More about my OC V's love triangle and her struggle to get back in the ring.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a quick little story meant to take place between The End of the Beginning and Become Who You Are. It should follow that same storyline, so any inconsistencies are unintentional. I thought while I was waiting for Indiejane to do the next chapter of Allegiances, so I can continue with Become Who You Are, I'd fill in some of the blanks in the two year gap between the stories. Feedback, please!_

-0-

"I want to get back in the ring." V propped herself up on her elbow and turned to face Jax.

Jax opened his eyes slowly, turning to her with clear apprehension. _Jesus,_ he thought. _Already?_ He'd hoped, at first, when V had just been released from the hospital and was still doped up on painkillers and bandaged, that her allowing him to take care of her would last after she recovered. He ought to have known better. The cast had only been removed from her badly broken arm for a few days, and already she was talking about fighting. "What's the hurry?" he asked, keeping his voice light.

She grinned. "Same hurry as getting back here," she said, gesturing to the bed.

Jax shook his head. He'd been stunned when, on the third night after she'd gotten out of the hospital, she'd come out to the sofa where he'd been sleeping and reached for his hand, asking him to come to bed with her. The doctors had told Gemma, who had bullied them into treating her as V's next of kin, that although her physical injuries would heal over time, her emotional ones might last forever. An offer of her body was the last thing he'd been expecting.

Still, as always, V knew what she wanted. "This is how I get past this," she'd said, putting a finger to his lips to shush his protest. "Please, Jax. I don't want to talk about it. This is what I need." He didn't argue, just took her slowly, relearning her body, listening for her cues. Though he wondered later if he'd made the right choice, he knew he was no more in control now than he'd ever been. He was never going to be able to turn her down.

The next day, V had insisted on returning to Teller-Morrow, her arm in a sling and her face still a mess. From then on, there was no more taking care of her. Though she hadn't said anything, he knew that she was looking for a new place of her own. And now she wanted to get back into the ring.

Jax scowled briefly. He didn't like the idea that V thought of being in bed with him as the same as being in the ring with an opponent. Given her recent allowing him to be gentle, he'd thought that part of their relationship was over. "All about fucking and fighting with you, isn't it?"

V knew Jax was getting pissed. In the past, that would have been her cue to leave, or to agitate him further, just for the sake of the fight. Since her abduction, though, she'd tried much harder not to instigate problems, to let Jax at least feel like he was taking care of her. She slid over, pressing her body against his. "You don't seem to mind the fucking," she said, her voice teasing, trailing her fingers down his chest.

He refused to be assuaged, grabbing her wrist before her hand found his cock. "You're trying to change the subject."

She smiled up at him. "Maybe."

He lifted her arm above the sheet. Even in the room's dim light, it looked pale and withered from weeks in a cast. "You're still healing, baby."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm not sayin' I'm gonna be ready to fight tomorrow. But I'm itching to get back to it. Besides, Chibs won't let me fight before I'm ready."

Jax's body stiffened. He'd studiously avoided the subject of Chibs since V had come to stay with him. "That what this is about, then?" His voice was low. "You think we're goin' back to the way things were before?"

"No," V frowned. "It's about me going back to being me." She wondered, though, if Chibs was part of what was drawing her back into the ring. Her turning to Jax the night she was kidnapped had been purely instinctual, putting herself in the hands of the man she knew would take care of her when she couldn't take care of herself. As she'd healed, though, she'd wondered if she'd make the right decision. Once again, she owed Jax, and already she felt herself resenting the debt.

Jax was quiet for a minute. He wanted to tell V he wouldn't share her again, to demand that she commit to him. He knew, though, that there was nothing more likely than rules and boundaries to send her running. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "You know," he said, drawing in a stream of smoke, then letting it out, "you're a pain in the ass."

V laughed, reaching out to take the cigarette. "I'm worth it."

-0-

"You sure about that, princess?" Chibs asked. He looked at V skeptically. Even without the cast on her arm, the evidence of the Russians' attack was still clear on her if you knew where to look. For his part, he'd spent the recent weeks trying not to look at her at all. As soon as his relief at her being alive had faded, the pain of her inalienable choosing of Jax had hit him. He'd known all along that she was never going to belong to him, but he hadn't expected to see her belong to someone else, either.

V. hadn't sought him out to ask him about starting training again, but instead had made the request in the clubhouse, with Jax sitting next to her at the bar. _Trying to keep it on the up and up?_ Chibs wondered. He turned to Jax. "What do you think about this, brother?"

Jax's jaw was tight. "Up to V," he said. "She wants to fight, I'm not gonna try to stop her." He wanted to add a warning to Chibs, tell him to keep his hands off V, but knew better of it. The only chance he was going to have to get V to stay was to let her do things her own way.

Chibs looked surprised at Jax's change of tune. He'd never liked to see V fight, and if anything, her abduction and everything she'd gone through at the hands of her tormenters was all the more reason to try to protect her. _Is he finally getting it?_ Chibs wondered. _And is it even the right move anymore?_ V had seemed very much herself lately, independent and mouthy, but he hadn't caught even a glimpse of pain seeking in her, and wasn't sure it was still there. _Had the pain finally been enough?_

"This doesn't have to be a big deal," V said, turning her smile back to Chibs. "No idea if this arm is even going to work well enough to get me back into any real fights. But I gotta do somethin'. Sittin' in the office isn't enough."

Chibs nodded. "Up to you," he said, catching himself in time to keep from calling her "princess" again. "You want to train, I'll train you."

"Good. Let's start tonight!" V looked enthusiastic about the prospect, then shocked both men by leaning over and planting a quick kiss on Chibs' cheek before getting up to head towards the door back to the office.

After V let the clubhouse, Chibs turned back to Jax. "What's this really about?"

Jax scowled. "She says it's about her bein' her again." He met Chibs' eyes. "I'm not sharin' her this time." His voice was threatening. "I don't give a fuck what you think she needs."

Chibs smiled. It was hard to be angry with Jax—he knew he deserved all of his brother's anger. Still, it wouldn't hurt him to win with a bit more grace. "She chose you, Jackie," he said, his voice quiet. Then he got up and left the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

"Goddammit!" V exploded, her face red and frustrated. "Aagggh!" She flopped down on her stomach in the ring. "I can't even do a full fucking set!" She'd been trying to do push-ups for days now, unable to hold her body up for more than a short time, or push up more than a few times, on her weak left arm. Work at the bag was just as bad, with her left arm unable to even remain lifted for long, much less throw punches.

Chibs shook his head. "You gotta give it some time, darlin'," he said. "It won't all come back at once." He was sitting on the picnic table, as he had every afternoon, careful to keep as much distance as possible between himself and his pupil. From this perch, he could watch her all he wanted, behind the privacy of his sunglasses, and still be sure that any onlooker saw nothing going on that shouldn't be. The urge to touch her was getting stronger—he knew it would—but luckily she wasn't doing anything to aggravate the situation. Thus far, she really seemed simply to want to be able to fight again.

V rolled over onto her back and began to do some crunches, twining her legs through the ropes. Chibs studied his beer bottle, trying not to focus on the backs of her thighs. When she stopped to catch her breath, he noticed her flexing the fingers on her left hand, making experimental fists and then opening them again. "What's wrong with your hand?" he asked. Broken fingers hadn't been among the injuries from the Russians.

V was quiet a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was smaller than usual. "You stepped on them," she said. It was the first time either of them had made any reference to their former relationship.

Chibs thought about the night he'd ground his boot into V's finger. It seemed much farther past than it actually was. "Didn't know that was still botherin' you," he said, fighting the urge to get up and take a look at it.

She sat up further, looking into the darkness of his sunglasses. "I can still feel it," she said. "Wasn't botherin' me much, until I started tryin' this again." Her face was impassive, and it was clear to Chibs she was talking about more than her fingers. "How about you?" she asked. "It still botherin' you?"

_Ah, princess, you know it is,_ he thought. _But nothing good is gonna come of me tellin' how much I still want you._ Instead, he ignored her question. "Better get on the bag if you're gonna do it," he said. "Not much daylight left."

To his surprise, V didn't argue. She got up and began bag work, compensating as well as she could for her weak left arm with her stronger right. The compensation left her off-balance, though, and she was soon frustrated again. Still, she kept at it, making the form corrections he suggested as best she could and concentrating on the bag.

V was still at the bag when Jax came out. He'd come out for a minute or two each time they'd trained, clearly checking up on the situation. While neither Chibs nor V much liked it, they both understood what he was doing, and neither said anything to him about it. He nodded a greeting at Chibs, but didn't sit down next to him on the table. "How's she doin'?"

"Arm's botherin' her," Chibs said, his mind still on what V had said about her fingers. "It's not strong, and I don't know if she's doin' it any good, pushin' so hard." He grinned sardonically. "Not like I can fuckin' stop her, though."

To Chibs' surprise, Jax smiled back, his look almost conspiratorial. For a moment, they were bonded in their desire to help and frustration with V. They both watched her in silence, each of them noticing her determined posture, but also the definite slump in her left shoulder. She didn't look the same boxer she'd been only a few weeks before.

When V stopped and turned to face them, she didn't seen at all surprised to see Jax. "Hey," she said, smiling. "Impressed?" She rolled her eyes.

"It's just gonna take some time to get back where you were," he said, consolingly.

V didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't say anything. Chibs noticed her again flexing the fingers on her left hand, though it hung at her side. "Pack it in," he said. "That's enough for today. You gotta let that arm rest or you're just gonna make it worse." Again, he was surprised when she didn't argue, just headed back towards the clubhouse with Jax.

Chibs stayed on the picnic table long enough to smoke another cigarette. He thought, for the millionth time, about the first night he and V had been together, before she'd killed Leo. He'd had no idea, that night, how far down her rabbit hole he would end up falling. And now, from the bottom, he wasn't sure he could climb back out without doing more damage. Watching her, he knew she didn't need him now like she had before—if he was with her again, it would just be about losing to desire, with no way to even try to convince himself it was the right thing.

Tipping his head back, he thought suddenly of Fiona. V didn't remind him so much of her anymore. Fi had come out of each brutal encounter, each loss, with a harder heart and less sympathy. She had never tried to do "the right thing." V, he knew, was trying. She was trying to be Jax's Old Lady. She was trying to find an outlet for her endless rage that wouldn't hurt anybody. She was even trying, in her own way, to make things easier for him. Even tonight, though she'd posed a challenge to him with her words, daring him to tell her he still wanted her, there had been none of the old defiance in her voice. It was as if she wasn't so much trying to test him as really wanting to know. The thought made him sad. He thought of V's impotent punching, her frustration at not being able to do push-ups. She was determined, he knew, not to let this be one more thing they took from her. And he was going to help her, no matter how difficult it was for him.

-0-

"Jesus Christ, V!" Jax's eyes widened as the woman on top of him picked up her pace. She'd been on him the moment he'd shut the door to his sleeping son's room, in a way much more like her "old" self than what he'd come to expect since her abduction. Within seconds, they were in his bedroom, on the floor. She'd stripped him of his shirt and cut and he'd barely had time to take off his pants and boots before she'd climbed on top of him.

Her pace was furious, pushing herself up and slamming back down on him. He gripped her hips, trying to get control, but she shook him off. Rather than fight her, he decided it was better just to enjoy the ride. He relaxed, letting her drive, and watched her tits bounce. Though he'd delighted in her passivity over the past weeks, this was nice, too.

It took a while, but V exhausted herself, and finally fell, panting, onto his chest, allowing him to take over. Jax held her tight against him and moved inside her slowly, letting her calm down before he worked her back up again. He inhaled her scent, that citrus smell that always clung to her, and ran his hands up and down her back. "Fuck, you smell good," he murmured into her hair. When he felt her start to climax, he pulled away enough to watch her face, happy to see her eyes were open and clear, with no misery or fear behind them. _This was how it should be for us_, he thought. _Just this._

-0-

It seemed like it had been a long time since that first night V had stayed over, when Jax had awoken to find her drinking alone in the kitchen. Still, when he woke up without her next to him, he knew that's where she would be. He laid still for a few minutes, waiting to see if she would come back to bed. When she didn't, he rose quietly and pulled his jeans from the floor.

"You OK babe?" She was just where he'd expected her to be, wearing his flannel shirt, her legs wrapped around the legs of the chair, a glass and bottle in front of her.

"Yeah." She smiled at him when he sat down across from her. "Just can't sleep."

"That's new, lately."

"Yeah."

Jax wasn't sure what to say next. He couldn't imagine what was going on in V's head, but knew her well enough not to ask. If she had something to say, she'd say it. He was surprised when she spoke again so quickly. "I'm really going to try this time, Jax."

He nodded, slowly. He wasn't completely sure, but he thought he knew what she was saying. He waited for her to continue.

"I still don't know if I can be what you want me to be. But I really am going to try." She sounded mostly as if she was trying to convince herself.

"Darlin'," he said, "all I want you to be is here. With me." He reached across the table and picked her face up to meet his gaze. "Just me."

She nodded. His request was clear.

"I love you, V. I know you don't know how to hear that, and I won't make a habit of saying it, but you need to know it's true."

She nodded. "I know," she said. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He chuckled. "Not like I have a choice."


	3. Chapter 3

"That brings us to the Darby issue." Clay scowled around the table. In the aftermath of V's abduction and the subsequent need to get rid of a whole mess of bodies, the subject of Darby had been tabled until things were more stable. Now that V was recovering and it seemed fairly certain that there was no heat coming, it was time to discuss it.

"I'd like to squeeze that Nazi fucker 'til his head pops off," Chibs remarked, conversationally.

"He has to pay," Tig agreed. "He set us up."

"He did more than that," Jax's face was hard. Though he didn't say it, everyone knew he was thinking of V's bruised and broken body, the way she'd looked when Happy had half-carried her through the Clubhouse door, and the relief they'd all felt just to see her alive.

Clay looked at Jax. "What are you thinkin', VP?"

Jax ran his fingers through his scruffy hair. "I'd like to take the whole fuckin' crew out. Get 'em out of town once and for all. But that's trouble we don't need."

Clay nodded. "Last thing we want to end up with is a goddamn war in Charming."

"We can't just let that shit go, though," Opie said. "After what happened to V…"

"Nobody's sayin' lettin' it go," Bobby said. "Just layin' low on it for a while longer. Seein' what shakes out."

Slowly, the men around the table began to nod, though they still didn't look happy. Waiting, and making Darby feel secure in the process, might be the smart move, but it wasn't the satisfying one.

"What about V?" Juice asked.

"What about her?" Clay looked puzzled.

"How do we know she's not gonna decide to go after Darby herself?"

"She wouldn't be that stupid," Clay began. Then he stopped, looking around the table. He landed his eyes on Jax. "Would she?"

Jax shook his head. "I dunno, man."

"Has she asked what we're doin' about Darby?" Opie inquired.

"No," Jax shook his head again. "She hasn't mentioned it. She doesn't really say anything about…any of it."

Opie glanced at Jax. "She's still not talkin' about it? At all?"

Jax shook his head. "Not a fuckin' word, man." He sighed. "I wouldn't put goin' after Darby past her. I mean, those Russians…"

The group was silent for a minute, remembering the story Happy had told them, how the barely-walking V had convinced him to take her to the warehouse where the Russians were hiding so she could kill them herself. He hadn't been very descriptive, but his point had come across clearly.

"Girl's in no shape to take on anybody," Chibs said. "And she knows it."

"She's pretty fuckin' crazy though," Tig interjected. "Could just see her goin' off and doin' something stupid. Besides, she wasn't in any shape to take on the goddamn Russians, and that didn't stop her." The look on his face may have been intended as distain, but it looked like admiration.

"Talk to her," Clay said, looking at Jax. "Make sure she understands _we'll _handle this."

-0-

Waiting for Church to let out, V relaxed on the Clubhouse couch, paperback book in one hand, cold beer in the other. It was nice to be back here, to feel like things were normalizing again. Tonight would be the first after-Church party she'd been to since her attack, and she was looking forward to it. As the room filled up with sweetbutts and hangers on, V watched over the top of her book, recognizing most of the faces, making note of those she didn't.

"OK if I sit here?" A thin woman with long, curly blond hair and a midriff-baring top motioned to the other side of the couch.

V nodded, looking the woman up and down. She looked vaguely familiar. After she sat, she extended her hand. "Hi. I don't think we've met. You're V, right? I'm Lyla."

V shook the woman's offered hand. It was slim and weighed down with a heavy rhinestone ring. "Yeah, I'm V." She looked at Lyla more closely. "You one of LuAnn's girls?"

Lyla nodded. "Yeah, I work for LuAnn. I saw you at the studio with Chibs one day." She paused, looking a bit apprehensive. "You're Jax's Old Lady, right?"

V considered the question before answering. "Yeah," she said, slowly. "I guess I am."

Lyla gave her a strange look, but didn't inquire further. She looked a little bit nervous. "I'm here to see Opie," she confided.

V raised an eyebrow. Opie was the last one of the guys she'd really have imagined with a porn star. As if reading her mind, Lyla continued. "It's not like that. He…he fixed my car. I wanted to thank him."

V couldn't help but laugh. "That's a pretty terrible excuse."

As they left the Chapel, both Jax and Opie saw V and Lyla on the couch, and they exchanged a look. Neither one of the would have expected what they were seeing—the two women seemed to be getting along very well, talking and laughing.

"Now that makes me nervous," Opie muttered.

Jax whistled a low whistle, then grinned. "Brother, it should." Lyla was not at all what he would have expected, but after everything that had happened with Donna, Jax was very glad to see Opie interested in a woman again. "How's it goin' with her?"

Opie smiled. "Tryin' to take it slow."

Jax's gaze returned to the two women on the couch. "Better get her away from V, then. Nothin' slow there."

Opie shook his head. "Nah. Lyla can hold her own." He turned back to Jax. "How's V doin'?"

Jax shrugged. "Hard to say, man. She seems OK." He wished he could say more, wished he could talk to someone about how he was afraid V would fall apart every time he touched her, even though he gave her no indication that would be the case. Instead, he slapped Opie's shoulder. "C'mon, let's go see what they're up to."

V was laughing so hard she gasped for air, and Lyla nearly so hard. "No fucking way," V said. "That did not happen."

"Swear to God," Lyla answered. "With fucking peanut butter." She nodded sagely.

As Jax and Opie approached, V was doubling over laughing again.

Jax smiled at Lyla. "What the fuck did you do to her?" He prodded V's shoulder. "You OK?"

V nodded, still regaining her composure. "Lyla's telling me horror stories," she said. She scooted to one of the couch, making room between herself and Lyla for Jax and Opie to sit. "You guys want a beer?"

Lyla hopped up. "I can get you one too," she said.

V waved her back down. "Sit, I got it."

As V walked towards the bar, Jax turned back to Lyla. "Am I gonna be pissed at whatever ideas you're givin' her?"

Lyla smiled. "Pretty sure you know there's nothin' I can teach her she doesn't already know."

Jax buried his head in his hands in mock horror. "Oh, God, no…"

"I think you may have a bigger problem," Opie said tilting his head towards the Clubhouse door. In the doorway was Ima, another of LuAnn's girls. Ima was—had always been—after Jax. And he'd taken her up on it a time or two, most recently just before V's kidnapping.

"Shit," Jax muttered. He remembered Tara's encounters with Ima, none of which had been pleasant. And Tara didn't have half the temper V did. Like a scene from a sitcom, V and Ima both approached the couch.

At the pool table, Juice elbowed Chibs and nodded towards the couch. "Oh shit, that's not gonna be good," he said.

"Aye, that's not gonna be pretty," Chibs responded. Making no pretense of continuing the game, both men put their pool cues down to watch the scene unfold.

"Hi Jax," Ima said sweetly, walking right in front of V to position herself on the arm of the couch nearest Jax. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Christ, what now?" Gemma muttered, nudging Clay. She was looking towards the couch. "Jax been hittin' that?"

Clay shrugged. "No idea."

From behind Ima, V raised her eyebrows and exchanged a look with Opie, who looked both sheepish and a bit worried. Smiling, she handed Opie and Lyla the beers from one hand, the extended the other hand to Jax. "I don't think we've met," she said evenly, looking Ima up an down. "I'm V."

Ima had the good sense to look scared, if only for a second. "I'm Ima," she said. Her face then turned to a fake smile. "Am I in your seat?"

"That's OK," V said, returning Ima's smile with one of her own. "I was just gonna go outside for a bit anyway." She smiled at Lyla. "It was really nice to meet you, Lyla," the nodded towards Opie, "see you later, Ope." Then she turned towards Jax, turning on her full smile. "You wanna come with me?"

Unsure what he was reading in V's sparkling eyes, Jax rose immediately. What it was, it was better than a scene in the middle of the Clubhouse. "Sure."

They'd barely shut the door behind them when V began to giggle. "Did you really think I was gonna bust your balls in there?" she asked. "Or take a piece out of the skank?"

"Crossed my mind," Jax muttered, not sure exactly what V was finding so funny.

V grinned up at him, then wrapped her arms around his neck. "I got better things to do," she said, pushing her body closer to his. "I saw the look on that bitch's face. I know what she wants. And you wanna know how I know?" V tilted her head back, whispering in Jax's ear. "Cuz I want it, too."

Jax smiled back at her. He was surprised at this reaction, but certainly not against it. "Baby, you can have it," he said.

"Here? Now?" There was a challenge in her voice, but not a cruel one.

Jax grinned. "If that's what you want, darlin', I'm game." He picked V up, backing her towards the wall, slightly away from the door. As soon as her back hit the wall, V reached for his belt buckle, unfastening it quickly and reaching into his jeans for his hardening cock.

Jax pulled V's denim skirt up around her waist, then pushed her panties to the side impatiently. "Hurry," she breathed, her legs wrapped around his waist. He complied, hoisting her up a bit father, then back down on his length. She took no notice of her body being smashed between his and the wall, feeling only him moving inside her. She wrapped one hand in his hair, pulling it between her fingers, while her other steadied herself on the wall.

"Jesus," he muttered. "You just keep getting hotter." He wasn't sure, but he thought she was laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

V looked around nervously. She hated hospitals, and really hadn't wanted to take Abel to his appointment at St. Thomas. Jax had gone out on a run and was late getting back, though, and Gemma had very little patience for what V did or didn't want to help out with. So here she was, pushing the merrily babbling Abel in his stroller down the stark white hallway. The appointment with Abel's doctor had been awkward—she couldn't tell V anything, and seemed annoyed that she wasn't speaking to Jax or Gemma. They'd left as quickly as possible. As she waited for the elevator, V focused straight ahead, watching the floors tick by, counting the minutes until she and Abel could escape.

Later, V cursed herself for not being more aware of her surroundings as she stepped into the elevator. Being in a hospital had her off her game, and she wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the other occupant as she pushed Abel through the doors. It wasn't until the slow descent began that she looked up and found herself face to face with Ernest Darby.

V froze, her hands clutching the stroller handle tightly. She said nothing, her mind instantly back in the dim bar, Darby sitting across the table, just before the shots were fired.

Darby shook his head. "Looks like you've got nine lives," he said, looking her up and down. "Don't even look any worse for wear."

Instinctively, V's right hand moved to her left arm, her fingers tracing the places that had only recently been casted. Her whole body was cold, and only by concentrating on it could she keep herself from shaking. _This is fear,_ she thought, feeling oddly removed. _This is me, scared. Again._

Darby grinned. "Not near as mouthy now as you were when you put my guy in here, are ya?" When V stayed frozen as the elevator door opened in the hospital lobby, he turned to face her fully before leaving. "That's good. Mouth like that will get a girl in trouble. Especially now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back. You might not be so lucky next time." He grinned again.

After Darby got off, V stayed still in the elevator, unaware as the doors closed and it returned to the fifth floor. Only when the doors opened and she saw the same hallway she'd just left did she shake herself out of it enough to push the down button again, then get off and steer Abel's stroller towards the Charger. Once Abel was in his seat and she was behind the wheel, she locked the doors, then mechanically put the key in the ignition and drove to Teller-Morrow. It wasn't until she was in the lot that she realized she'd barely been breathing the whole way.

By the time V and Abel returned to Teller-Morrow, Jax and the rest of the guys who'd been on the run had returned. As she wheeled Abel into the clubhouse, Jax approached them, smiling. He kissed V quickly, then reached down into the stroller for his son. As he stood back up, Abel in his arms, he saw the look on V's face. Before he could say anything, though, she was crossing the room, sitting down at the bar.

V didn't say anything to any of the assembled Sons, or to Gemma, who was sitting on the bar stool closest to her. Even though it was barely afternoon and everyone else was still drinking coffee, she pulled the closest whiskey bottle towards her. Her hands were shaking so much as she poured that more ended up on the bar than in her glass.

Jax moved towards her. "Babe? What's going on? Are you OK?"

"I need a fucking drink." Frustrated, V put the bottle down on the bar, raising what had ended up in the glass to her lips and pouring it straight down her throat. Tipping the bottle towards the glass again, she sloshed the liquor out again. "Fuck!"

Gemma reached over and covered V's hand with her own, forcing her to return the bottle to the bar. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her voice not sympathetic. Since her kidnapping, V's drinking had been very moderate. "You're shaking so bad you can't pour. What the fuck happened?"

V shook her head and moved her arm from under Gemma's hand. "I'm fine." She got up, her eyes wild, looking for a way out of the room. Jax stepped in front of her.

"Did something happen at the hospital? Is there something wrong with Abel?"

V shook her head again. "No. Abel's fine. Doc wouldn't tell me anything, because I'm not family, but she said no need to worry about anything,"

"You pissed because she said you're not family?" Gemma asked. She could see where that would piss her off.

"No, no. She's right. I'm not Abel's mom." V swallowed. Clearly they weren't going to let this go, and she knew she was acting weird. Part of her wanted to flee the room, anything was better than endless questions, but the other part really didn't want to be alone.

"What the hell is going on then, V?" Jax's voice was louder now, less patient. "You look like you saw a goddamn ghost."

V could feel herself losing it. She had meant to stay calm, but Jax couldn't have chosen worse words. "A goddamn ghost…" she smirked. "Should have been a goddamn ghost." She looked up, grabbing the neck of the bottle again and this time successfully pouring herself another drink. After she put it back, she met Jax's eyes. "Shared an elevator at St. Thomas. With Darby."

"Fuck." Jax had been avoiding talking to V about Darby and the club's decision to wait and watch. It hadn't even occurred to him that she might run into the man. Charming wasn't a big place. He searched V's face for how she was taking it. Before, she'd seemed afraid, startled. Now she just looked pissed. Good. He could deal with pissed.

"You didn't talk to her about Darby?" Clay scowled at Jax. "I thought that was taken care of."

"No, I…" Jax trailed off. There was no good reason for his not talking to V—the truth was that things had been so good between them lately, and he'd been enjoying it so much, he didn't want to risk upsetting her. "Shit." He reached for V, landing his hand on her hair. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

"What did that Nazi prick have to say?" Opie asked, his brow furrowed. He, too, had a clear memory of Darby across that table from them, and what had happened after that, to V, was something he didn't even want to think about. It had to be horrible for her to have run into him.

"He was full of fucking swagger," V said, her eyes still on Jax. "Couldn't wait to tell me how much trouble my mouth could get me in, since Sam Crow doesn't have my back. Said I wouldn't be so lucky next time." She was surprised she was being so honest, but her anger was making the decisions. The whole way back from the hospital, the words had echoed in her mind. _Now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back….now that Sam Crow doesn't have your back…_

Realizing that she'd likely regret the scene she was about to make, V suddenly rose from the bar, pulling her head out from where Jax's hand was still in her hair. "You got the kid now?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "I gotta go. Shit to do."

"No." Clay's voice was hard and final. "You think you're gonna go off half-cocked after Darby. That can't happen."

Enraged now, V spun around to face him. "That son of a bitch set me up to get killed. To get fucking tortured. And you decided not to do anything about it. Well, that's your call. But you sure as hell aren't going to stop me."

"Like hell I'm not." Clay's face didn't show any sympathy, just the hard countenance he always wore when giving an order he knew wasn't going to be popular. "If I have to keep you locked up here, or keep somebody on you, I will. Nobody moves on Darby until I give the order."

As V opened her mouth to speak again, her face twisted with anger, Clay cut her off. "You better think real hard about what you're about to say," he said. "Whether you respect it or not, this is my club. I can still kick your ass out."

V clenched her jaw, but said nothing. Everybody in the room could see her rage. "Fine," she seethed. "No moves on Darby. Can I go now?"

"You sure you get what I'm saying?" Clay peered at V intently.

"You're real fuckin' clear," she answered. Without saying a word to anyone else, she turned a left the clubhouse. The room was still silent when the Charger roared to life outside.

Clay shook his head. "Never seen a bitch so set on stompin' out as that one." He turned back towards Jax. "Why the fuck didn't you talk to her?" Before Jax could answer, Clay continued. "She goes off and does some dumb shit that we have to clean up, that's it. She's out. I've had just about enough of this Club's decisions being determined by the crazy goddamn women you fuck." He looked not just at Jax, but then at Tig. His meaning was clear.

Jax barely heard his stepfather's rant. Since he met V, he'd been trying to get her to let him protect her. Finally, she had. She'd trusted him to take care of Darby. And he he'd let her down.

"You should have warned her, Jackson," Gemma's face was disapproving. "She was going to run into him sooner or later."

Jax glared at his mother. "She wouldn't have run into him if you'd taken the kid to the doctor like we talked about," he said. "You know she hates shit like that. But you ask her to do it, just to see if she'll tell you no."

By the time Happy walked in, the volume in the room was deafening, Jax and Gemma yelling at each other, Clay ranting. Hap raised an eyebrow, then turned to Bobby. "What the fuck?"

Quickly, Bobby explained the situation. Happy shook his head, remembering the broken V he'd found in her apartment, and the way she'd held it together for long enough to kill the rest of her attackers. He couldn't imagine she would ever be willing to let Darby's part in her attack go unpunished, and he didn't blame her. Still, he didn't make SAMCRO decisions, and there had to be a reason behind it.

It didn't take long for Gemma, Clay, and Jax to all stomp off in their own directions, each of them feeling angry and guilty. Clay returned to the garage, Gemma went into the office, Jax headed towards his dorm room. "Should somebody go after V?" Juice asked. "Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

"She won't," Chibs said. "She knows she can't take Darby on by herself. Not now." He didn't feel as confident as he sounded, though. He knew how frustrated V had become with her time in the ring, with not recovering as fast as she thought she should, but he wasn't sure how realistic she would be about her strength in the face of something like this.

"She gonna fight again?" Happy asked.

"Don't know, brother. She was anybody else, hurt as bad as she was, healin' the way she is, I'd say no." He smiled. "But she's not anybody else."


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a tense day at Teller Morrow, with Jax and Clay both slamming things around in the garage and nobody saying much. By the time they closed the shop, nearly everybody was ready to hop on his bike and take off his own way. Chibs, though, felt drawn in another direction. Stripping off his cut and shirt, he cracked his neck experimentally as he slowly circled the heavy bag. He didn't expect V would be showing up for their training session, but a few rounds with the bag wouldn't hurt him any.

As had so often been the case when he was younger, once Chibs began to focus on the bag and the rhythm of his fists against it, everything else faded away. He pummeled the bag steadily, changing up his combinations every now and again, until he was dripping sweat, panting. Only then, backing away from the bag and reaching towards his shirt, intending to wipe his face, did he see V perched on the picnic table.

"Not bad for an old man," she said. "You're dropping your left on the roundhouse."

He shook his head. He'd been thinking the same thing. "You havin' a go?" He gestured at the bag.

"No, not tonight." She jerked her head towards the seat next to her on the picnic table. "I want to talk to you."

Chibs brows knit reflexively. It was never a good sentence to hear from a woman's mouth, and a puzzling one from V, who was not so much the talking type. He lit a cigarette before he sat, feeling her eyes following his movements. "You pissed at me?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Nobody wants to let Darby get away with what he did," Chibs began, but V cut him off.

"I get it," she said shortly. "Now's a bad time to draw attention to the Club. That's not what I want to talk to you about."

Chibs tried to ignore his growing uneasiness. "OK," he said, "what's up?"

She turned to him fully, meeting his eyes in a way that was rare for either of them. "Do you still want to fuck me?"

Chibs rolled his eyes. "That's how you're gonna handle this shit? Every time Jax pisses you off, you're gonna get with me?" He felt his blood pressure begin to rise. "You're an evil fucking bitch, you know that? Even Fiona, when she was done with me…she'd known I was seein' her face on everybody under me for a year or more, she'd have been sorry. But you…you do it on purpose. You think it's fuckin' fun." He nearly spit the last words, glaring hard at V.

V's face remained impassive, so Chibs continued. "If you're just lookin' for a cock to ride to get back at Jax, I'm sure you won't have any trouble." He looked her up and down, taking in the way her tight tank top hugged her tits, the tanned expanse of her legs under the hem of her cut off shorts. "You don't need me for that."

She eyed him coolly. "You're right," she said, "there are easier ways to get laid. That's not what I asked." She spoke slowly. "What I asked was, do you still want to fuck me? If I open my legs for you, you gonna hit it?" She raised an eyebrow.

He continued to scowl at her. "Why the fuck do you need to know? You just want to hear me say it?" His face showed something in between fury and shame. She waited. "Fine. There's gonna come a day when I can tell you no. But it ain't today."

He waited for her response. She was quiet.

"That what you came to hear? Make you feel better?" His face softened some, though he was still angry.

"It's not about Jax," she said, finally. "Whether I do it or not, that's about Jax, maybe. But me wantin' to? That's about you." He didn't bother to hide the surprise in his face. She continued. "You should know this. What you do to me…" she licked her lips, seeming unsure of her words, but set on continuing. His heart began to speed up again. "I miss that." She cast her eyes down as she said it.

He reached out, jerking her chin up so she was facing him again. "That what this is?" he asked softly. "You're cravin' the hurt again?" He nodded towards the bag, and the ring beyond it. "You can get it in there."

She lifted her left arm, waggling it uselessly in front of her body. "Not yet," she said. "Maybe not ever." She paused, looking tentative again, but then went on. "Besides, it's not just that." She fixed him with her eyes again. "It's you."

Chibs was floored. As long as he'd been around, he was rarely shocked. This woman, though, was full of surprises. _Watch out,_ a voice in his head ordered. _This girl is not above manipulation. She knows this is what you want to hear. _"Why are you tellin' me that?" he asked, his voice gruffer than he'd intended. His mind was reeling. At first, he hadn't been all that surprised—coming to him for sex when she was on the outs with Jax wasn't exactly new behavior from V. This, though, blew his mind. What was she looking for?

"You don't wanna know what you do to me?" She grinned slyly. "I think you do." She moved closer to him, her thigh pressing against his. Watching her, he was amazed at the lust in her eyes. It didn't feel like a performance, it felt like a need. His hands itched to touch her. He was aware of what was happening, but the edges had begun to blur, his focus narrowed to her hands on his chest. "Take me on a ride," she said.

"Princess," he was breathing harder now. "You're gonna get us both killed. We can't do this here."

V laughed softly. "OK," she said. "That was all I needed to know." Before Chibs could respond, she leaned forward and kissed him, her lips insistent, probing. He responded automatically, his tongue in her mouth, the pressure increasing. When he reached out for her, though, she was already standing up. "Goodnight," she said softly. Then she turned and walked across the parking lot.


	6. Chapter 6

"I didn't expect to see you out here!" Lyla's face lit up when she saw V duck into the cramped Cara Cara dressing room. She had very much enjoyed talking to V at the Clubhouse, and hoped to have the opportunity to hang out with her again, but hadn't expected V to seek her out.

If V was phased by the various states of undress of the women around her, she didn't show it. "Not exactly my scene, huh?" she said, dryly, glancing around.

Lyla laughed, then suddenly turned somber. "Shit. Is everything OK? Did something happen?"

V could tell from the other woman's eyes she was thinking something had happened to Opie. "No, no everything's fine. I'm just lookin' for trouble tonight, and I thought you might want to join me." She grinned.

Lyla was floored. V had definitely not struck her as the type of woman who had girlfriends. Still, the smile was infectious, and Piper was already with a sitter for the night. "What kind of trouble did you have in mind?" she asked.

V raised an eyebrow. "What have you got?"

An hour later, the two found themselves in Lodi, sitting at a dingy bar, surrounded by a mix of college kids and good old boys. "So why are we out looking for trouble?" Lyla giggled, watching with some awe as V downed her third shot. "Not that I'm complaining!"

V laughed and motioned for the bartender to refill her glass, but didn't answer. Seeing that Lyla wasn't doing much more than stirring her drink with a straw, she furrowed her brow. "You not a drinker?"

Lyla shook her head. "Not really." She smiled tentatively. "Not my drug of choice."

V smiled widely again. "I'm not picky," she said. "What's your poison?"

-0-

Lyla stood with her back against the cramped bathroom door, ensuring nobody interrupted them, and dug through her huge purse. She remembered, briefly, the disapproving look on Opie's face when he found the baggie on the floor of her car, but put it out of her mind. _Nothing wrong with a little girl's night, _she reasoned. Finding what she was looking for, she handed the bag to V.

V smiled, then pulled her jacket sleeve over her fist. "Cover your face," she ordered.

Lyla complied, but was still confused for a moment when she heard the crash of V's covered fist against the mirror above the sink. When Lyla removed her hands from her eyes, V was carefully selecting a long piece of the broken glass and lying it on the counter. A moment later, she'd pulled her razor from her pocket and was cutting the coke into thin, neat lines.

"You know," Lyla giggled, stepping towards V to lean over the lines, "I had a mirror in my bag."

-0-

"Jackson, Opie, get in here." The tight fury in Gemma's voice was clear across the garage.

Tig grinned. "You boys are in trouble," he teased. "Mom is mad!"

Jax and Opie exchanged a look. Neither had any idea what they could have done to piss Gemma off.

"Now," Gemma called.

When Jax and Opie entered the office, Gemma was sitting at the desk, her hand still on the phone, having clearly just put the receiver down. "That fucking girl," she said sharply, "is more trouble than she's worth."

"Mom?" Jax asked. "What's going on?"

"That was V," Gemma replied, her face tight. "Calling from the Lodi jail."

Jax's eyes widened. "Oh shit, Darby..."

"No," Gemma shook her head. "Apparently she's not quite that fucking stupid." She turned her eyes to Opie. "You hittin' that girl from Luann's? Lyla?"

Opie looked confused, but nodded. There was no use lying to Gemma about these things. She always knew.

"Seems she and V went out last night, "Gemma continued. "And had quite the time, until they were picked up by the Lodi PD."

"Jesus Mom!" Jax exclaimed. "You had me thinkin' it was serious!" He chuckled. "V and Lyla got drunk and got arrested, huh?"

"It's not funny, Jackson. There are charges. Stupid bitch." She shook her head.

"What charges?" Opie asked.

"She was vague. Something about property damage and indecency."

Opie couldn't help but laugh then. "Indecency?" He and Jax looked at each other, both biting their lips.

"I'm glad you both find it so amusing." Gemma was still scowling. "You can laugh all the fucking way there. V wants you to go bail them out. Personally, I think you should leave her in there, but I guess it's up to you."

Jax found it hard to feel anything beyond relief, and some amusement. If V hadn't gone after Darby, and was requesting help from him, that made the situation a win as far as he was concerned. He grinned at Opie. "Guess we'd better go get 'em, huh?"

After they picked V and Lyla up, the morning went from strange to even stranger. V pronounced herself "fucking starving," so they stopped at a diner for breakfast. In between gulps of coffee, V filled them in on the previous evening. Lyla was quiet, looking shamefaced and afraid of the repercussions of their evening. V, on the other hand, seemed triumphant.

"But what about the indecency part?" Jax asked, shaking his head in amusement. V had just explained, in colorful terms, how she'd been forced to break a couple of pool cues and possibly a bar stool to get her point across during some sort of still-vague disagreement. It was all fairly minor stuff, which he was sure an application of not too much cash would clear up without any fall-out. It certainly wouldn't be the first time a Son or affiliate had to pay a repair bill after an incident in a bar.

Lyla raised her face from her plate and met V's eyes, clearly curious to see how she'd respond.

V grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Not sure you boys need to know that part," she said coyly.

It was then Jax and Opie's turn to exchange a look. "We need to know," Jax said, meeting V's coyness with his own, "so we can figure out of the charges will stick."

"They won't," V said. "Nobody was complaining." She looked at Lyla again, refusing to look away until the other woman returned her smile.

Opie's eyes widened. "What did you do?" he asked Lyla, turning a sidelong glance at her. "Put on a show on the bar?"

Lyla giggled nervously.

"Nah," V said. "Not_ on_ the bar."

"Christ," Jax said. "And we missed it?"

-0-

Jax was shocked, but happy, when V headed to his house after work that day, scooping Abel up from the babysitter and spinning him through the air before handing him to Jax. Her mood seemed completely back to where it had been before the Darby incident, and he felt, amazedly, as if he were getting away with committing a major fuck-up. He was tempted to talk to her about it, but thought it might be better just to let it go, if that's what she was going to do.

The evening passed pleasantly, with V even helping him give Abel a bath before he put the little boy to bed. When he came out of the baby's bedroom, V was outside, standing on the patio, smoking a cigarette. Jax slid the screen door closed behind him, then wrapped his arms around her from behind.

They stood there in silence, watching the cigarette's burning ember as V moved it to and from her mouth. _This is nice_, Jax thought. These moments were so rare with her, but there had been more of them recently. Tonight more than ever, though, she seemed oddly calm. It felt like a gift. As if she could read his mind, V leaned back against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

"The cop called," she said, tossing her cigarette butt and stubbing it out with the toe of her boot. "They're dropping the whole thing."

Jax smiled. He'd spent the better part of the afternoon on the phone with various Lodi friends, getting the situation straightened out. It had actually been a bit harder than he'd expected—V had neglected to mention the part where she swore at the officer who arrested her. "Good," he murmured, inhaling the scent of her hair where it tickled his face. "Hate to see you have to do time."

She laughed, the vibration moving into his chest. He shifted, moving his mouth close to her ear. "You wanna go inside, you goddamn delinquent?"

He could feel her grin. "No," she responded, turning to face him slowly. "I wanna stay out here." She ran her fingers down his chest, stopping at his belt. "You know," she murmured. "I never did thank you for bailing us out."


	7. Chapter 7

"Another charity run, huh?" V fixed Jax with a skeptical look. "Clay's become quite the Good Samaritan lately."

Jax grinned. "Anything for the cause, baby." He shrugged into his cut, then turned to face V. She was sitting in the middle of the bed, wearing an old Reaper t-shirt, her just-showered wet hair dripping onto the sheets. He was struck, for the millionth time in the last few weeks, at how calm and happy she appeared. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You gonna miss me? And stay out of trouble?"

V laughed. "What the fuck does that mean, out of trouble?"

Rather than answering, he ran his hands up her back, pulling the damp t-shirt away from her skin, and pulled her close to him.

"You're gonna be late," she murmured.

"Let 'em wait."

Before things could go any further, the sound of a Harley on the street caught both of their attention. A moment later, there was pounding on the front door. Stretching lazily as she rose, making sure to give Jax a full view, V went out to answer it.

"Morning Chibs."

_Don't know why I never expect her,_ Chibs thought, forcing himself not to react to V's opening the door. Since the night she'd asked him if he still wanted her, kissed him, and ran off, V hadn't said more than a few words to him. She'd continued her work in the ring, as determined as ever, but nothing in her words or her manner gave any indication that he was anything to her. He felt almost as though he'd imagined the whole thing. "Morning, V."

"You want coffee?" As V turned to walk into the kitchen, Chibs couldn't help but watch her back, where her wet hair was sticking the t-shirt to her skin, her ass, and her long bare legs. Coming out from the bedroom, Jax didn't miss where Chibs' eyes were pointing, but he said nothing.

"We headin' out?" Jax asked.

"Aye," Chibs nodded. "Clay's anxious to get on the road before the rain."

If V sensed the tension in the room when she returned, she ignored it, handing each man a steaming coffee mug. "Gonna be a shit ride if it rains the whole way," she said, frowning. "No chance of putting it off for better weather?"

Jax shook his head. "Nah, this…charity…needs to be delivered today."

V chuckled. "Gotcha."

Chibs couldn't help but feel uneasy, watching the two of them smile at one another. Things seemed so stable, so…normal. "I'll be outside," he said, setting the coffee cup down on the entry table. "See ya, princess."

"Ride safe."

As the door clicked behind Chibs, Jax hoisted his saddle bag onto his shoulder and turned towards V. "Mom's got Abel," he said, "and I'll be back day after tomorrow. You good?"

She nodded, then wound her arms around his neck. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she said softly, laughing, before she kissed him goodbye.

-0-

"You and me need to have a talk." Gemma's Cadillac had pulled into the driveway only a few minutes after Jax left, and she'd walked right in, not waiting for V to come to the door. She sat at the kitchen table now, a cup of coffee cooling in front of her, a lit cigarette between her manicured fingers. "Sit down."

V frowned, but sat down across from Gemma. Abel was sleeping peacefully in his carrier on the chair next to her.

"Everybody else may be buying this good little Old Lady act," Gemma began, "but I'm not."

V sighed. _Should have seen this coming._

"Jax is seeing just what he wants to see," Gemma continued. "But I've been watching you. For weeks now you've been smilin', doin' what you're told, not mouthin' off." She shook her head. "What's the angle?"

V looked at Gemma blankly. "No angle," she replied. "Just happy to be alive, I guess."

"Bullshit." Gemma tapped her cigarette into the heavy glass ashtray. "I saw you the day you ran into Darby. You were out for blood. That don't just disappear."

V nodded slowly. "You're right," she conceded. "I was pissed. But I get it—Club needs to stay lo-pro for now. That makes sense." She shrugged. "Darby will get what's comin' to him eventually."

Gemma peered at V suspiciously, clearly not buying it. "Even if I believed you were just trustin' the Club," she said, "which I don't, that wouldn't explain you suddenly bein' the perfect Old Lady for Jax." She glanced around. "Well, maybe not perfect—you're still a goddamn slob—but an Old Lady, anyway."

V shrugged. "Jax has been good to me," she said. "Doesn't hurt me to go easy on him." Even as the non-answer was coming out of her mouth, she knew Gemma wouldn't bite.

Gemma scowled. "Wouldn't have hurt you to 'go easy on him' before, either, but you never did," she said. "Seems to me there's only two reasons for you to be actin' like this. Either you're feelin' guilty about somethin', or you're hidin' somethin'. Now which is it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me. One thing I like about you, you're not stupid." She sighed. "Wendy used to do this, you know. Every now and then she'd get it in her head she was going to be a real Old Lady, be on her best behavior for a month or so. Never ended well. And her actin' was better than yours." She glared across the table. "Whatever you're hiding, you may as well come out with it. It'll come out on its own sooner or later."

V remained calm. "Sorry to disappoint you, Gemma," she said. "But I'm not hiding anything." She considered leaving it at that, but thought a bit more might help to get Gemma off her back. "I told Jax I would try, this time. Try to be a real Old Lady. So I'm trying."

Gemma narrowed her eyes. "And when you get sick of tryin'? Then what happens?"

There was no good answer for the questions Gemma was asking, and she knew it. V stared across the table, saying nothing.

"He's gonna want to put a crow on you, you know." Gemma said, finally. "Want you to move in here permanently. All that shit. You gonna try that hard?" She stood up and reached for Abel's carrier. As she approached the kitchen door, she turned back towards V. "Last thing Jax needs is another disappointment. If this is really just all about you tryin', you'd better keep at it. I'm watching you."


	8. Chapter 8

_One good thing about being me_, V thought, lugging a box from the Charger into the little brick house, _is that I never have to spend much time packing. _She felt a bit guilty for moving her things out of Jax's house while he was away on the run, but knew it would be easier to deal with the fallout of having moved that the fallout of moving while he was there. _Besides,_ she rationalized, _it wasn't as if he shouldn't see this coming._

The entirety of V's "move" took only a single car load—there just wasn't much to it. She'd rented the house the week before, deciding then to wait until Jax's next run to actually take possession. In the meantime, she'd had a mattress delivered, and scavenged an old card table and chairs from a dumpster. Other than that, and the few boxes of clothes and books she'd just carried through the door, the house was empty. V looked around, enjoying the bareness. Keeping your life stripped down to the essentials made for so much less to be taken away.

-0-

"Gemma is gonna have your balls for breakfast."

Clay glared across the small cell at Tig. It was, he knew, true. In a few minutes, he was going to have to call his wife, explain all this shit to her, and ask her to come post bail. And then she would have his balls for breakfast.

It had all started out really well. The rain held off, the handoff of the guns went without a hitch, and the Sons were all being made comfortable in the Oregon charter clubhouse by sundown. As a bonus, the Oregon charter had a whole harem of new sweetbutts, each one younger and more accommodating than the last. Which is why, when the cops busted in flashing a search warrant, they found nearly all of the members of SAMCRO with their pants down.

As it had turned out that some of the sweetbutts might actually be as young as they looked, being caught in this position was presenting a problem. The kind of problem that had landed the entire collection of visiting SAMCRO members in lock-up, with a holiday weekend stretched out before them before any chance of release without posted bond.

There was a time when Clay would have had a prayer of Gemma laughing about this. After what happened with Cherry, though, that time had passed. Gemma had made it very clear that anything that happened on a run had to stay on the run, and if it didn't, there would be hell to pay. He knew, too, that she'd be hurt, seeing how young the girls were (even though he was nearly sure they would all turn out to be legal). She'd been very sensitive about her age recently.

"Maybe she doesn't have to know," Juice said. "Couldn't we call someone else?"

"Who the fuck else we gonna call that can access our cash to post bail?" Clay scowled. Juice could be so goddamn stupid. "Nobody can get into the garage safe but Gemma and V."

"That's perfect!" Juice said. "V! She can come bail us out."

Clay turned to Jax. "You know, she could. She can get to the cash." He smiled. "Gemma wouldn't even have to know."

"No fuckin' way," Jax responded. "You think V is gonna be happy about this?" He shook his head vehemently. As well as things had been going with V lately, he wasn't about to set her off with something this stupid.

"I think she'll be a shitload less unhappy than your mother." Clay was nodding now, realizing he really could get out of this situation without Gemma ever knowing. "V might bust your balls, but she won't be hurt. Your ma will be hurt."

"Maybe," Jax growled, his temper rising, "you should have thought of that before you stuck your dick in another teenager."

Clay smirked. "I'm not the only one in this cell."

"V's gonna find out either way," Tig pointed out. "And nuts as that broad is, she'll probably think it's funny."

It took a few more jabs and attempts at convincing, but it was soon clear that Jax wasn't going to get out of calling V and asking for her help. By the time the officer came to give him his phone call, it was decided. As Jax dialed, he hoped V would stay true to form and not pick up her phone. He was almost home free when, on the fourth ring, he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Uh, babe? We kinda got some trouble up here. You feel like takin' a little drive?"

-0-

"How'd she take it?" Though Opie tried to keep the laughter out of his voice, the undercurrent was still there.

Jax shot his friend a dirty look. "Fine."

"Aw, c'mon, Jackie," Chibs chided. "We're gonna be stuck in here, you may as well entertain us. What'd she say?"

Jax's unhappy expression deepened into a glare. "She's on her way," he said curtly.

"She got the part about not advertising to Gemma?" Clay asked.

"Loud and clear."

"Say a man had some money on whether not she was going to flip her shit when she walks in here," Tig said. "What would his odds be?"

"No idea." Jax stretched out on one of the hard benches, closing his eyes, attempting to make it clear that he was done with the discussion.

Realizing what must have happened, Chibs smirked. "You didn't tell her why we're in here! Oh, shit." He began to laugh. Though he knew it was small of him, he was looking forward to the fit he fully expected V to throw. Regardless of what Tig thought, he was pretty sure she wasn't going to find this all that funny. And it was clear from Jax's slump on the bench that he had the same concern. The question was, how pissed would she be? Pissed enough to lower the barrier she'd had up lately? Turn back towards him? He hated himself for wondering, but he wondered all the same.

"Not like she's not gonna know what the charges are when she gets here," Clay said. "Probably not real smart to let her get blindsided with it. Way to guarantee a goddamn scene."

Jax turned his glare to his stepfather. "I need advice on women from you, I'll be sure to ask."

"We don't need her going off half-cocked at Darby because she's pissed at you."

"She won't. She'll be fine." Jax wasn't particularly confident, and didn't sound it. The truth was you just never knew with V. "Anyway, better to explain it to her in person."

Clay didn't look convinced. "You better keep her under control."

-0-

As odd as Jax's call had been, V didn't really even start thinking about it until she'd already gotten the plan underway. When she'd gone to T-M to get the cash out of the safe, she'd run right into Gemma, but had covered her tracks decently well by pretending she was there to work out. The whole thing had put her behind, though, and now she was leaning heavily on the Charger's accelerator, rushing up the interstate towards the Oregon border.

Anytime the whole Club was in lockup, it was cause for concern. Even if it was, as Jax had indicated, "nothing," it didn't quite make sense to V that Clay would want to keep Gemma in the dark. Jax had insisted it was just a misunderstanding, and that if it weren't for the holiday and the "provincial fucking police department" they'd be released with on charges in a few hours, but something about the whole thing didn't quite add up.


	9. Chapter 9

"You boys just can't stay out of trouble!" V was sitting on the hood of the Charger in the police station parking lot, smiling. As the Sons approached her, all looking only slightly worse for wear, and some looking sheepish, she shook her head. "Damn good thing you have me to come rescue you."

"And we are happy to see you," Clay said. "You get that Gemma can't know about this misunderstanding, right?"

V grinned. "Got it. I know nothin', I saw nothin', and I was never here." She jerked her head to the van pulling into the lot. "That's your ride back to the clubhouse."

Clay looked appreciative. "Darlin, you just became my favorite."

V laughed. "I'll remember that."

Jax hung back while Clay and V spoke, watching her for an indication that her good humor was only surface. Seeing none, he drew nearer, but found himself at a loss for words. She turned her face towards him, still smiling, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. "Hey baby." As if this were any other meeting between them, she lifted her chin so he could kiss her. She handed him the keys to the Charger. "You wanna drive?"

-0-

"I did not just see that," Bobby was shaking his head as the Sons settled in the van. "No old lady bails you out of jail for hittin' underage pussy with a smile on her face." He shook his head, then repeated himself. "I did not just fuckin' see that."

"You did," Clay said. "I saw it, too." He, too, was amazed. Even at her most fun, Gemma would have at least pretended to be pissed about something like this. Particularly if she'd walked into it not knowing what was going on.

Chibs said nothing, but wasn't as stunned as his brothers. He knew V well enough to know that her acting like she was fine this did not necessarily mean she was. Still, he'd have laid money on her making a scene. He knew things with Jax and V seemed to be going well, and that she was making a real effort to be a good old lady, but this seemed much farther than he'd expect her to take it. Bobby was right—no old lady would be OK with this.

-0-

By the time the Sons and V were back at the Oregon clubhouse, night was falling. Rather than make the five-hour ride back to Charming in the dark, they decided to stay over. By mid-evening, they were all sitting around, drinking, swapping stories with their Oregon brothers. With V sitting next to him, laughing, drinking a beer, and showing absolutely no sign of being upset, Jax began to relax and enjoy himself.

Jax's calm was short-lived, however. A few hours after the Sons arrived, a handful of the sweetbutts from the previous evening walked in. They did, Jax thought, look very young. He glanced sidelong at V and saw her eyes moving from one of them to the next. _Shit, this is going to go bad. _

Before Jax could spend too much time worrying, V was out of her seat and crossing the room. "Brother, that can't be good," Opie muttered, nudging Jax.

"No, it can't." Jax thought of getting up to try to stop V, but suspected it would only make whatever she was going to do worse. _Please don't hit any of those girls, _he silently prayed.

By the time V had sat down next to the girls and began to talk to them, all of the Sons' eyes were on her. Nothing in her posture indicated she was angry or threatening them. She seemed friendly. Still, all of the girls looked nervous. As it became clear V was explaining who she was, Julie, the petite blond girl Jax had been with the night before, started to turn a bit pale.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Clay asked, nodding towards V. "Is she going to make a scene now?"

"I have no fuckin' idea."

"Looks like she's makin' friends, man." Bobby shook his head. "She's so goddamned weird."

As the Sons continued to watch, V began to speak to Julie specifically. She was still smiling and seemed completely friendly, but when she jerked her head towards where Jax was sitting, clearly indicating him, chuckles broke out in the group. A moment later, though, they were silenced.

Before getting up from the table, V leaned over towards Julie. Slowly, with full knowledge that everyone in the room was waiting for her to cause a commotion, she brushed a loose piece of hair back from the blond girl's face, then leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was long and slow, nearly theatrical. When it was finished, V pulled Julie up from her place at the table, leaned over to whisper in her ear, and again indicated Jax, then motioned down the clubhouse hall. Julie nodded, then walked quickly off in the direction V had pointed.

V strolled back to the Sons' table, stopping first at the bar and smiling widely at the Prospect bartender, then extending her hand for the mostly-full bottle he handed her. When she returned to the table, she didn't sit down, just ran her fingers lightly over the back of Jax's cut, then leaned down and spoke softly to him. "You should come with me." Not waiting for an answer, she headed down the hall in the same direction as Julie.

Jax said nothing to his guffawing and smirking brothers, just got up quickly and followed V down the hall.

"That's it," Bobby said. "That, my friends, is the greatest old lady of all time."


	10. Chapter 10

_Desperately needing feedback here, y'all. This story is meandering and I keep changing my mind about where I am taking it. Should I throw in the towel on this one and move on?_

-0-

Jax awoke early, squinting against the dim light coming from between the window blinds. His head was pounding, and if there was a part of his body that didn't ache, he couldn't locate it. _What a long, strange night. _As it all came back to him, Jax turned to survey the room. V was asleep, lying on her side with her back to him in the narrow bed. Her position was half-fetal, curled in on herself, protecting her stomach. Her dark hair was spread out over the pillow.

_What the fuck was that about?_ Jax wondered, lying on his back, careful not to jostle V. It wasn't as if he hadn't been with two women before, or hadn't seen women together, but this had been a whole new experience. An experience that, much as he'd enjoyed it, had left him spent, sore, and a bit uneasy.

For the entire previous evening, V had given no indication, not for even a second, that she was angry at him, or bothered in the slightest by his having been with Julie. Still, as Jax followed her down the hall towards the bedroom where Julie was already undressing, he wondered if he was about to get some sort of extreme beat down. Instead, he'd watched, in what could only be describe as awe, as V turned the magnetic sex appeal to which he'd become accustomed towards the unsuspecting Julie. Poor girl had no idea what hit her.

Just had Jax began to wonder if he was in the room as audience only, or if he was going to be an invited participant, V had turned to him and smiled, beckoning him to join in. He unconsciously grinned as he replayed the memory. It had, in all honesty, been one of the hottest nights of his life. The whole thing had gone off like a porn film, almost unreal. It was as if his thoughts were being read and his every whim met before he was even aware he'd had it. Which was, he realized, frowning as he thought about it, why he now found it troubling. He'd been with V before when she'd seemed detached, or as if she was protecting herself, but this had been beyond that. Last night's V was a woman he barely recognized. She was clearly in control of the narrative, the evening going exactly as she'd arranged, but he'd felt none of the demanding, punishing heat with which he associated her. There was no challenge. She'd asked nothing of him. She was cold.

_Shit,_ Jax let his head drop back against the pillow. It seemed so obvious now, though last night he'd had only the vague notion that something was not quite right. V was pissed, and rather than making a scene, or (God forbid) telling him about it, she'd instead decided to punish him this way. It made no sense, of course, but what with V ever had? He looked again towards where she was sleeping. She was naked, her fanned out hair exposing the intricate and delicate tattoo on her back. From this angle, she seemed so much like a typical woman, like any other woman he'd woken to find next to him. But no other woman had prepared him to for dealing with the shit in her head.

Trying to puzzle it out, Jax's frustration and unease only increased. Why the hell was he second-guessing a night like that one? Couldn't it just be that V's being cool with his evening with Julie, and her initiation of the previous night's events, made him lucky? Did there have to be an ulterior motive? And even if it had been intended as some sort of strange punishment, it sure as hell hadn't felt that way, so why did it matter?

Irritated, Jax sat up in bed and reached for his cigarettes. Julie, he realized, must have decided it was wise to disappear to another corner of the clubhouse, or maybe to wherever she called home. Probably wise of her. He couldn't imagine V was going to wake up in the same charitable mood in which she'd fallen asleep. Come to think of it, Jax had no desire to see the blond girl this morning, either. Having V find out he'd been with Julie had certainly never been part of his plan (not that there had really been a plan). What happened on a run was supposed to stay on the run.

Though she kept her eyes closed in pretend sleep, V could hear Jax sighing and moving around beside her. She listened closely, but heard only Jax's breath and her own in the room. Good, the little girl had left. V lay still, listening, until Jax put his cigarette out and turned onto his side, facing her back. Smiling slightly, she inched closer to him. The bed was small, so it took only a few minutes for her still half-curled body to be flush against his.

Feeling V's body against his, Jax was surprised once again. Her movements were slow, gentle, tentative. She wasn't issuing a dare, wasn't demanding anything of him, but was inviting him to touch her. It was a subtlety he'd long grown accustomed to in other women, but he'd never before felt in V. His body was responding before his mind even caught up, beginning to grind gently back against her ass. She responded, inching tighter against him and arching her back.

It took only moments for Jax to harden enough to nudge his way between V's legs. She remained partially curled, and he curled around her, pushing inside her slowly. He moved experimentally, pushing in, then inching out, listening for the cues in her breath. He waited for her to demand he push harder or faster, or to throw her body back against his, but she didn't.

As he moved inside her, Jax leaned over V's shoulder, positioning his mouth close to her ear. "Why didn't you just tell me you were pissed?" he asked, increasing his pace slightly. "You have every right to be mad."

He felt, rather than saw, her smile. "I'm not mad," she replied, pushing back against him slightly harder now, but still not forcefully.

"Bullshit." He ran his hand down her chest, stopping where her knees were still pulled in to her stomach, then forced it between them. She didn't open her legs, but he pried them apart, not speaking again until his fingers found her clit and he heard her hiss in response. "What the fuck was that about last night, if you aren't pissed?"

V struggled to focus, her mind beginning to float away with what his hand was doing, her body wanting nothing more than to respond to the pace of his thrusts. "You weren't complaining last night," she gasped, grinding back against him, previous thoughts of control lost now to the need for more friction.

"Not complaining now," he muttered, finding it increasingly difficult to talk. "Just want to know what you're thinkin'." He pushed her onto her stomach, lying flat on top of her, his cock still inside, his hand still underneath. He held her there, gyrating between his body and his hand, her body urging him on. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his thrusts picking up pace again, beginning to overtake the control he was trying to keep.

"Who the fuck said I was hurt?" V's pace matched his, her voice muffled somewhat by the pillow. "Do I feel fuckin' hurt to you?"

As her bucking hips began to get the best of him, Jax didn't speak again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the same place that last night, no matter how good things were, had been unsure, there was a niggling thought. _Yeah, darlin'. You do._


	11. Chapter 11

V was headed south on the interstate, doing 85, when the realization hit her. It hit hard, too—she nearly swerved onto the shoulder in her shock. She wanted to be with Jax. She _wanted _to be his Old Lady.

V had never made a practice of examining her own feelings. For one thing, she'd rarely had time, and for another, her needs had rarely mattered all that much to anybody else, so why should she pay them any attention? Having these emotions sneak up on her, and having them do it while she was alone, driving, unable to hit anything, to drink, smoke, or snort anything, to do anything except feel them, troubled her. But here they were, an hour and a half out of Charming, staring her in the face.

Walking into the police station and finding out why she was there to bail the Sons out had barely given V pause. Seeing Jax's face, feeling his apprehension, had only amused her. Even seeing the girl he'd been with, running through the inevitable comparisons—younger, unscarred, compliant—had only bothered V a little. She'd barely thought about the threesome plan before putting it into motion, figuring it would help snap Jax out of his unease and might be a good time. Once she was there, though, in that small room with Jax and the young woman he'd been with the night before, V had felt her stomach start to churn. She'd focused first on Julie, on putting on a show, because she wasn't sure she could face Jax. Only after she'd completely detached herself could she turn to him. The night and gone on and on, and she'd felt as if she was watching it all, not from her own body, but from somewhere near the smoke-stained ceiling.

As bad as last night had been, though, this morning had been much worse. When Jax had whispered in her ear, told her she had every right to be angry, it was as if the room had shattered into little pieces before V's unblinking eyes. She'd been angry her whole life, whether she had a right to it or not, and now here was this man, this man who had only weeks earlier told her earnestly that he wanted to be with just her, telling her it was OK to be mad. She knew she should be furious, at his giving permission, if nothing else, but she could locate no rage. The only thing inside her was a huge, hollow, empty space.

Now, chain-smoking, hurtling down the highway, she realized that she wanted Jax to be able to fill that space. She remembered the tequila-fueled night she'd clung to him, asked him to tell her he loved her. She hadn't known then why she craved the words, craved the look he gave her, but she wanted it again now. She was so tired of feeling empty, of being alone.

-0-

V got back to Charming before the Sons did, and headed straight to her new house, rather than Teller-Morrow, in order not to arouse any suspicion in Gemma. Knowing it would do no good to prolong it, she texted Jax with the address and a request to meet her, then sat smoking on the porch.

Though she sat waiting to hear Jax's bike for nearly two hours, V never figured out what she was going to say. When he pulled up in front of the house, took off his riding glasses, and fixed her with a long, hard look, the expression she returned was almost confused. She didn't get up to meet him, but watched him walk towards her. She smiled at his swagger in the dim light, then noticed, as she hadn't recently, just how gorgeous he was.

Jax sat down next to V on the porch, then lit a cigarette before he spoke. "I wasn't keeping you prisoner," he said. "You didn't have to move out as soon as I had my goddamn back turned."

"I know, Jax," V began, but Jax cut her off.

"I really don't get you." His mouth was tight, clearly angry. He stared at V. "Do you want to be with me, or not?"

V took a deep breath. She thought about her realization in the car, and about the empty, hopeless feeling she longed to be rid of. "Yeah," she said. "I do."

"Got a funny fuckin' way of showing it."

V sat for a moment, feeling lost, helpless, and completely unsure as to how she should proceed. She wanted to tell Jax how she'd felt in the car, how she wanted to be with him, to let him love her, but she had no idea how to say it. She thought about telling him why she needed her own place, about how hard it was to wake up to Abel's crying, knowing he would never be her son, or about how powerless she felt knowing that she was being taken care of, but only to the extent the Club saw fit (Darby was still walking around). But nothing in her thoughts could make it out of her mouth. Instead, she reached for him, running her hand along his jaw, feeling the ever-present stubble there against her fingertips. "I'm sorry," she said.

Jax thought, darkly, about V's previous apartment. Her moving out to the clubhouse was forever tied, in his mind, to the beginning of her relationship with Chibs. "This so you can fuck somebody else?" he asked.

V's brow furrowed. She'd expected Jax to be upset, to be angry at her for not telling him, and for not letting him take care of her, but this line of reasoning was one for which she hadn't been prepared. "No," she said, feeling her temper start to rise. "Dude, you're the one who's fucking other people."

"What happens on a run is supposed to stay on the run," Jax hissed. "Besides, I already apologized for that. And you obviously don't care."

For once, V managed to keep her temper in check, not spitting back the first thing that came to her mind, but taking a breath, then meeting Jax's angry gaze. "Yeah," she said softly, "I do." She sighed. "I can't live with you right now, Jax. Not yet. But I do want to be with you." She swallowed, willing herself to just get the rest of her mouth before she lost her nerve. "And I hope you still want to be with me."

Jax looked momentarily stunned. He shook his head. "I don't get you," he repeated, his voice losing its anger.

She smiled, reaching again for him, moving closer to him on the porch step. "I know."

-0-

_This,_ V thought darkly, _is why I think a good fuck is worth more than a good talk._ It had been two days since her talk with Jax on the porch of her new house, and he'd been studiously avoiding her the entire time. It figured that now that she'd realized she wanted him around, he'd make himself scarce.

It had been an exceptionally long day in the T-M office. Though, as far as V knew, Gemma remained unaware of what had gone down in Oregon, she must have sensed something was off, because she was in a horrible mood. V had spent the majority of the day just trying to avoid Gemma's barbs. To make matters worse, Tig had an unfortunate run-in with a customer, ending in a threat of legal action by the customer and V's having to talk the woman down—something that was hardly her strong suite. Since about 2, she'd been counting minutes until she could leave the office and get into the ring.

V didn't wait for Chibs, but started warming up on her own, jumping rope, then alternating sets of crunches and push-ups. Her push-ups were still awful—she took nearly all of her weight on her right arm—but she was slowly progressing. At least she could make it up and down now. By the time V righted herself after her second set of push-ups and crunches, Chibs was standing at the corner of the ring, smoking.

"Arm's gettin' stronger."

"Some." She squinted towards him, barely able to make his shape out in the bright late afternoon sun.

"How's it feel?"

"Not bad." V was mostly telling the truth—the arm was still bothering her some, but it didn't hurt nearly so badly as it had.

"Think you're ready to spar?"

V was surprised. Chibs had been insistent that she not push too hard, warning her that she would only end up hurt worse if she did. Why did he suddenly think she was good to go? Standing quickly, she crossed the ring to face him. "With you?"

"Aye." Chibs hadn't come out intending to challenge V to spar, but seeing her stubborn push-ups, he couldn't help himself. He knew she wasn't really strong enough for a fight, but he craved being in the ring with her again. He'd also noticed she and Jax avoiding each other since they'd returned from Oregon, and though he wouldn't have admitted it under torture, somewhere in his mind was the idea that this might be his moment to move back in on her.

This spar had none of the erotic push and pull of Chibs and V's previous meeting. She was tentative, protective of her arm, and there was no lust in her eyes. Within only a few minutes, it was clear that the spar had been a bad idea and would only end in frustration for both of them. Finally, V backed away, pushing the sweaty hair off her face. "I can't fucking do this," she said, her voice tight with anger. She lifted the side rope and hopped out of the ring, heading towards the picnic table and her cigarettes.

Chibs was surprised when, rather than stalking off, V had a seat on the table. He picked up his abandoned t-shirt and wiped the sweat from his face, then jumped down from the ring himself and sat next to her. For several minutes, neither of them said anything.

"I'm not gonna fight again, am I?" The question was direct, clearly in need of an honest answer, rather than a hopeful platitude.

"I don't know, princess." He looked at her, startled by how sad she looked. Not angry, not frightened, but sad. "Depends how much fight you got left, I guess."

She eyed him warily. "What the fuck does that mean?"

He looked indecisive, as if he wasn't sure how much to say, but then spoke. "Not just the arm that's holdin' you back. You're…trying to stay in control." He nodded towards the ring they'd just left. "There was no fire in you up there."

V smiled. "Seems to me the fire part got me in trouble last time."

Unable to help himself, Chibs smiled back. "That it did. But it's that burn, that lookin' for pain, that's what makes you a good boxer." He raised an eyebrow. "Makes you a dangerous fuckin' woman, too."

V looked skeptical, but could see the truth in what Chibs was saying. "I dunno what you're doin'," he continued, "trying to be a good Old Lady, stay calm, whatever," he shrugged. "It may be your smart move. But it's not gonna help you in the ring."

V glared into Chibs' sunglasses. "You tryin' to tell me I can't be a boxer and be with Jax?"

Chibs shrugged again. "No idea, darlin'. Just tellin' you what I'm seein'." _That's exactly what I'm fucking saying_, he thought. _Do you wanna be an Old Lady, or do you wanna be a fighter?_

"That's pretty fuckin' convenient for you, isn't it?" V asked, the temper she'd been carefully holding in check beginning to show. "Tell me, would it help me in the ring if I took back up with you? You think you got some more to teach me about pain?"

Chibs returned V's glare, watching her face carefully. It was hard to tell, sometimes, whether her anger was just anger, or whether it was inviting something more. He didn't see any invitation here, though. Though her voice sounded angry, her eyes still looked sad. "You ever want a another lesson about pain, you know where I am,"  
he said, rising from the bench. "I'm done chasin' you." He didn't look back at her as he strode across the lot and into the clubhouse.


	12. Chapter 12

_Still having major feedback cravings, y'all. FEED ME!_

-0-

In the days that followed their confrontation outside the ring, Chibs stopped coming out to supervise V's training. She didn't really need a trainer anyway, he figured, and frankly he didn't want to spend the time near her. She and Jax continued to be in whatever spat they were in, and he knew her well enough to know that if he put himself in her path, he'd end up in her crosshairs. This would have been fine with him, of course, if he'd been able to believe it had any chance of not blowing up in his face. He knew it didn't, so he stayed away.

Without Chibs to guide her, V continued to train, increasing her time every day, and was soon in the ring from the moment she left the T-M office to well after dark. She was having trouble sleeping, again, having never been particularly good at sleeping alone, and went out of her way to exhaust herself physically before going home. She'd caught Jax watching her a few times, and felt like he'd be glad to have her back in his bed if she'd approach him, but she couldn't do it. In part, it was stubbornness. In part, V felt like she'd said all she could the night they'd spoken on her porch. If that wasn't enough, then there was nothing else she could say.

It had been a week since their return from Oregon, and V felt the dull prospect of another night alone weighing on her as she locked the office door. Walking across the lot, she stretched her sore shoulders, trying to push them out of their desk chair slump and into something resembling a fighter's stance. In all honesty, she wasn't feeling much like a fighter these days. Still, she kept at it, mostly because she wasn't sure what else to do.

V had been in the ring for about half an hour when Half-Sack showed up. He wasn't sure she even knew he was there; she looked as concentrated as she always did, but she turned to him immediately, seeming glad for the company. "What's up, Sack?"

"Thought you might want to spar." Half-Sack had seen V alone in the ring for the past several days, and was beginning to feel sorry for her. He had no idea why Chibs had stopped training her, and had been met with nothing more than a grunt when he'd posed the question to his sponsor, but something about seeing her out here alone didn't sit right with the prospect.

V laughed, walking towards Half-Sack. "Not much for sparring yet. Arm is still too weak." She looked at her left arm disgustedly. "You'd kick my ass if you gave it even half effort."

Half-Sack laughed. "Put you with one arm against any other chick fighter I've ever seen." After a pause, he looked at V a bit shyly. "How about showing me some of that kicking shit, then?"

V looked a bit shocked, the grinned. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Sure. I could do that."

An hour later, Half-Sack had learned the basic front, side, and roundhouse kicks and practiced them with the bag for long enough to be fairly sure he wasn't going to land on his ass. Happy and Tig had watched for a few minutes, then left, laughing and chiding Half-Sack for learning to fight like a girl. Half-Sack ignored them, realizing both that learning how to kick without breaking his legs might be of help some day, and that V seemed to be having a good time.

Finally, V held up her hands in mock surrender. "You're in better shape than me, kid. I need a beer." She was smiling, covered in sweat. It was odd that it hadn't occurred to her until Half-Sack pointed it out, but she'd realized now that she could make up a lot of the ground she'd lost having a weak arm by utilizing her legs more, and she felt stronger than she had in a long time.

"Come in and have one," Half-Sack said. "Won't hurt you to hang out tonight. You haven't been around at all since you moved."

Surprising herself, V agreed and headed into the Clubhouse with Half-Sack.

"Did you teach the kid everything you know?" Bobby asked from his barstool.

"Nah, just the parts he's old enough to learn," V replied, sitting down next to Bobby. She accepted the beer Half-Sack handed her with a smile. "Why, you want to be the next pupil?"

Bobby laughed, then raised his eyebrows in mock lechery. "I'm old enough to learn whatever's left," he said.

"How'd you learn that stuff, anyway?" Half-Sack asked, settling down with his own beer.

"Can't imagine they teach kickboxing in reform school," Bobby said, looking at V with curiosity. "Where did you pick it up?"

V was quiet for a moment, her mind clearly leaving the Clubhouse and landing somewhere in her past. "A friend taught me," she said, finally, her voice sounding far away. "A long time ago." She seemed as if she was going to say more, then changed her mind. "Anyway," she said, her voice changing back to normal, "it's not that hard."

At the pool table, Chibs and Juice had finished their game and were both listening to see if V's story would go on. When it didn't, Juice began to re-rack the balls. Chibs' eyes stayed on V, watching her shoulders move down, her body begin to wrap into itself again. He wasn't surprised when only a minute later, she put her beer bottle down on the bar, said a quick goodbye, and headed out of the Clubhouse.

After V left, Chibs took her seat at the bar between Bobby and the prospect. "Learn anything you can use, kid?" he asked.

"Yeah," Half-Sack replied, sounding a bit excited. "You can get a ton of power behind those kicks!"

Chibs chuckled. "What about her?" he asked. "She lookin' any tougher?"

Half-Sack puffed up slightly. It wasn't often Chibs asked for his opinion on anything. "She does better when she doesn't try to use her left," he said. Reaching down, he rubbed an already-bruised spot on his shin, where V had demonstrated. "Kicks hard as hell, though."

Chibs smiled. Though he'd been avoiding her, he had been paying attention to the time V was spending in the ring. She had to be getting frustrated. "I believe that," he said.

"So what's goin' on with her and Jax?" Half-Sack asked, forgetting, as always, that a conversation with Chibs could end just as abruptly as it began.

Chibs looked irritated and shrugged. "Do I look like their goddamn marriage counselor?" he growled, getting up from the barstool. Before Half-Sack could respond, the Clubhouse door was swinging shut behind him.

-0-

V woke up covered in sweat. She'd felt pretty good when she'd gotten home, had only a couple of drinks, and hadn't even tossed and turned for very long before drifting off. Looking at the clock now, though, she saw she couldn't have been asleep for more than two hours. The dream hadn't even been that bad—she'd certainly had much worse—but it had been bad enough that she was wide awake now, jumpy, with her heart pounding.

Lying back and staring at the ceiling, V thought about how much she missed Jax. Countless times she had woken up just like this, panicked, and still mostly asleep, he'd pulled her into his chest and mumbled soothing nonsense into her hair. Though she knew there was absolutely no reason to believe that made anything OK, it always felt like it did. Sighing, she decided, in the same instant way she typically made decisions, that she'd had enough. She reached for her cell phone.

Chibs felt his phone ringing in his cut pocket as he sped along the country road, but he didn't stop to answer it. If it was the Club, it would ring again rapidly, as was the accepted sign for a call not to be ignored. If it was anybody else, fuck 'em, he didn't want to talk. It didn't ring again.


	13. Chapter 13

After Gemma's Caddy pulled out of the lot, Chibs waited a few minutes, then headed for the office. As he opened the door, V looked up, saw it was him, and returned her glance to the computer screen. Chibs was unperturbed. He flopped in the chair across from V and propped his boots up on the desk, clearly making himself comfortable.

"There somethin' I can do for you?" she asked tersely, still not looking up.

Chibs grinned. "Yeah," he said slowly. "You can tell me what the fuck is up with giving me a booty call last night." When she looked up, he couldn't hide his smile.

V didn't look amused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Though he hadn't been at all sure how she would handle being called out on this, Chibs was still surprised. "That's what you're going with?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Your number is in the phone. 2:19 am. I can show you, if you want."

V scowled, then shrugged and returned her eyes to the screen. "So what if I did call you? What makes you think it was a booty call?"

Chibs' smile remained. "Way I figure it, there are only two reasons for you to be callin' me in the middle of the night. And if you needed to get rid of a body, you'd have used the pre-pay."

V rolled her eyes. "Got me all figured out, do you?"

"Yeah, princess, I do." He leaned forward before continuing, making sure she was looking at him now and lowering his voice. "Jax is pissed at you for moving out. And you can't sleep alone. Sound about right?"

V's scowl deepened to a glare. She was sorry she'd ever picked up the phone. She'd never gotten back to sleep, and now this shit. "Fine," she sighed. "So the fuck what? I called you, you didn't answer. Next time, I'll call somebody else."

Chibs smirked. "That a threat? Little late to try to make me jealous, love."

V was quiet for a moment. As Chibs watched, her face seemed to turn from anger to something more resigned. She looked tired. "It's not a threat," she said, finally. "It's an offer."

Chibs looked puzzled. "An offer?"

V continued, staring down at the screen. "You're right." She looked up, her face drawn. "I can't sleep alone." She licked her lips nervously. "I miss you."

Chibs stared, briefly speechless. When he found words again, they weren't the ones he expected. "Until when? Until Jackie decides he wants you back?" He shook his head. "We ain't goin' back to that."

"I told you, a while back, that I'm not cut out to be an Old Lady." V met Chibs' eyes now, the vulnerability that had been in her face only moments earlier clouding over once again. "That hasn't changed. I'm still not makin' promises." She sighed. "What I'm sayin' is real fucking simple. If you want me, take me."

Before Chibs could respond, Bobby opened the office door. Glancing at V and Chibs, he scowled. "Am I interruptin' somethin'?"

"No," Chibs said, getting up. "I'm leaving."

"Good. The Camero is ready." Bobby turned to V. "Clay wants you to hang around tonight. Needs to talk to you after Church." He offered no further explanation, and was gone before V could ask.

-0-

The faces around the table didn't look happy, but nobody was arguing. Clay had laid the reasons out, and his logic was sound. "I know you don't like this," the president continued. "I don't like it either. But Darby's worth more to us alive and compliant. He's the enemy we know." He chewed on his cigar. "We'll have a sit down. Make sure he knows he's gettin' off easy for this one."

"V's gonna flip her shit," Juice said, finally.

"V aint' a member of this club," Clay said. "And it's about goddamn time she learned that she doesn't always get her way."

Jax scowled at his hands on the table. He knew Clay was right—burying the hatchet with Darby to keep the peace in Charming was the right move. There had been too much activity, too much ATF, too many bodies. It was better to save shedding blood for real threats to the Club. But he couldn't help but think about the way V had looked in the hospital, her pale face and broken bones. He hadn't protected her, and now he wasn't fighting to avenge her, either.

Jax wasn't totally sure why he hadn't spoken to V since the night they'd returned from Oregon. He was mad she'd moved out without telling him first, and mad about her reaction, or lack of reaction, to Julie. But it was more than that. Even before the run, when things had been going so well, he'd known something was off about her. It didn't add up, and he didn't trust her. _She doesn't trust you, either_, he thought darkly. _And after this, she never will._ Still, he said nothing.

"Since I'm the only one at this table I can be sure isn't sticking her," Clay continued. "I'll tell her myself." He motioned at the door. "Get her in here."

Walking into the small room and glancing around the table, V had a pretty good idea of what she might be about to hear. Still, as Clay told her, briefly and without the detailed explanation he'd provided his brothers, that the Club had decided to let Darby off for his part in her abduction, she involuntarily slumped back against the door. She said nothing, her eyes locked with Clay's, her face stony. When she finally found her voice, it came out softer and more brittle than she'd have liked. "Is that it?" she asked.

"No," Clay said. "That's not it." He scowled at her. "You understand that you goin' after Darby on your own isn't an option." It wasn't a question.

V nodded. "I got that."

"Good. Don't fuckin' forget it." Then he smiled, as if his mood had suddenly changed. "I got somethin' else for you to do.

Though her face remained set and expressionless, there was a small spark of interest in V's eyes. "Yeah, what's that?"

"I want you back in the ring."

The faces of the men around the table were confused. This wasn't something they'd discussed. "Brother," Chibs broke in. "She's not strong enough…"

Clay cut Chibs off. "I talked to the Prospect today," he said. "Kid says you could still take any of the chick fighters they'd pit against you. Fight action is heating up around here, partly because of you. Be a shame not to get in on some more of that."

Jax stared at his stepfather with furious incredulity. As if it hadn't been bad enough to tell V the Club was doing nothing to revenge her kidnapping and torture, now he was asking her to get back in the ring for them, even though she was clearly not up to full strength? Did he just want to see her sacrifice?

V didn't miss a beat. "You want me back in the ring, I'll fight," she said. "But I can't promise results." She was quiet a moment, trying to find better words, but gave it up quickly. "I'm not as good a bet as I was before."

"You afraid to get hurt?" Clay was sneering now.

V snorted. _You've got some fuckin' nerve, old man, _she thought. "No," she said shortly. "I'm not afraid to get hurt."

"Then we'll take our chances. You'll get stronger." He sounded almost encouraging. He looked at Chibs. "Start trainin' again. Get her ready."

Chibs looked at V, his face impassive, and nodded. He couldn't read her expression.

"That's all," Clay said, waving at V dismissively, clearly indicating she should leave the room. She said nothing, just turned and walked out.

After Church finished, the Sons spilled out into the Clubhouse's main room as usual. Though the room was beginning to fill up with hangers on and various friends of the Club, V was nowhere to be seen.


	14. Chapter 14

Though neither of them would have admitted it under torture, Chibs and Jax spent much of the post-Church party eyeing each other. Each expected the other to go after V, and each was trying not to do it himself. Had either man been unaware the other was watching him, he probably would have been out the door in the first half hour, but they both knew, and they both stayed. After a while, Chibs drank himself blind enough to put his conversation with V in the T-M office out of his head. He was nodding off on the sofa when Jax left, turning his bike purposefully not towards V's house, but towards his own.

As he pulled up to his house, Jax wondered for a moment if he was drunk. That was the only logical explanation for what he was seeing. The Charger was parked neatly at the curb. Sitting under his porch light, smoking her fifth or eighth or twelfth cigarette, was V.

Jax walked towards the porch slowly, his eyes on her. She looked back at him, clearly sober, which was another thing he wouldn't have expected. "Hey," he said.

"Hey."

He sat next to her, lighting a cigarette and passing it to her. "Is Abel inside?"

"No. Gemma's got him."

He nodded. If she'd asked Gemma to take Abel, it was likely she'd come to either fight or fuck. He wasn't sure he had the heart for either one. Before he could consider it further, though, she spoke.

"There are some things I need to tell you." V's voice was softer than usual, more tentative, as if the words didn't feel right in her mouth.

Jax continued to be surprised. V wasn't much for conversation on the best days. His expression was quizzical. "OK. Do you want to go inside?"

V shook her head. "It's nice out here."

"Do you want a drink?"

V shook her head again. "No." She sounded unsure. "I need to do this before I lose my nerve."

Jax nodded.

"First," V said, licking her lips, "I need to thank you." She took a deep breath. "I don't know if I would have survived all this shit without you." Her expression was still unsure, but he knew she was sincere. "You've been…amazing."

Jax smiled slightly, but V continued before he could respond. "I know I'm not easy, Jax. Thank you for taking care of me."

"No problem." He reached towards her, brushing the side of her face with his palm. "I'd like to keep taking care of you."

V smiled slightly. "I know." She took another deep breath. "I also need to apologize, for moving out without talking to you about it." She spoke in a rush, clearly wanting to this part over with. "I thought that would make it easier, but that was fucking stupid."

"Yeah, it was." He wasn't sure what else to say. Her moving out still left him stinging, and doing it behind his back made it much worse.

She grinned. He was cute when he was petulant. But what she had to say next was going to be harder yet. She met his gaze and gathered herself, then began again. "I want to be with you. I want to be your Old Lady." Jax started to respond, but V cut him off. He needed to hear all of what she had to say. "But I can't live with you. Not yet, anyway. I have to be able to be on my own. I have to get there." She bit her lip for a second, then continued. "Today I saw something I didn't think I'd see. In Church, you didn't stand up for me."

"I know, I…"Jax began to speak, but V cut him off again.

"No, Jax, it was a good thing. I thought, for a minute, that you did it on purpose. That you were standing back and letting me fight my own battle." She smiled a little sadly. "But it wasn't that, was it?"

Jax looked her, but didn't answer. _In what fucked up world is it a good thing not to stand up for the woman you love? Not to demand retaliation for horrible crimes committed against her? This made no sense._

"I didn't think so."

"The thing with Darby," Jax said. "I don't like it. I still want to kill that prick for what he did to you. But…"

"I understand," she said, though her face implied otherwise. "You gotta do the best thing for the Club. I'm not mad."

Jax didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. V started again. "I tried, Jax. I really tried to be the kind of Old Lady you want. But it's not me. And the longer I try, the worse I'm gonna fuck it up." She exhaled the last of the cigarette and ground it out against the step. "I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want to hurt Abel." Her eyes were clear and sad when she looked up. "I want you to be able to depend on me, but you can't. Not right now. Not for what you need."

Jax was quiet. He wanted to rage, to yell at her for giving up, for being so fucking stubborn. But in truth, she hadn't said anything he hadn't already been thinking over the past few days. "So what are you telling me?" he finally asked.

"That I'm a fuck up, Jax. That I can try to play house with you, but eventually it will come crashing the fuck down around your head."

He nodded, his face bitter now. He knew she was right. There was no reason for him to believe that what she'd suffered at the hands of her Russian captors would leave her less damaged that she'd been before. It was wishful thinking.

For several minutes, they sat in silence, neither sure what to say next. Finally, Jax smiled in a way that was far from happy. "You know, when you said Mom had the kid, I thought you came here to fuck."

V smiled back. "That would have been easier," she said.

"That's my V, always rather fuck than talk." His smile was a bit broader now.

She looked at him, tilting her head up. She hadn't planned this part, but now that it was here, it felt right. "I haven't been sleepin'," she said. "I knew it would happen, when I moved out. Forgot how bad it is, though."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"The baby?"

"Those. Some new ones." She shuddered involuntarily. "I know this isn't an answer, Jax, but…"she trailed off, then took a deep breath. "Can I stay here tonight?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Hell bent on moving out, and now you want to stay?"

Her smile was rueful. "I know. I just…it's been a shit day."

He nodded. He knew that if he turned her away, she'd find someone else. For the first time since they'd returned from Oregon, he wasn't angry with her. He felt like she looked—sad, but resigned. He stood up, extending his hand to her. "Come on in."

They moved awkwardly around each other, the strangeness of the situation not lost on either of them. She didn't ask, just picked a Sam Crow t-shirt from the top of a basket of clean laundry and changed into it while he was in the bathroom. When he came out, she was sitting uneasily on the edge of the bed, her hair cascading around her shoulders. _She looks small,_ he thought. He stripped off his cut and shirt, then his jeans. In his boxers, he went around to the other side of the bed and turned down the blankets. "Lay down, baby."

They laid next to one another quietly for a few minutes, both wondering what happened next. Half-expecting a reprimand, but unable not to try, V finally moved towards Jax, then leaned over and kissed him, softly. He responded instantly, with the same gentleness. The kiss lasted a long time, with no wrestle for control or even deepening. Slowly, Jax pulled V closer to him, then began running his fingers through her hair. "Jesus, you're beautiful" he murmured, sliding his hands down her sides over the t-shirt, then back up underneath it.

Neither of them thought of anything else as they touched each other. There was no violence, no posturing. She closed her eyes and let herself feel his calloused hands on her skin, concentrated on nothing but the sensation. When he rolled on top of her, she opened her legs, gasping as he pushed inside, but she never asked him to go harder, deeper, or faster. Instead, he took long, slow thrusts, wanting it to last as long as possible. The build-up was exquisite—not torturous, but beautiful. Finally, lowering himself to lie flush against her, his hands intertwined with hers, Jax whispered into V's ear. "Can you come like this?"

She smiled, her body feeling as if every cell was awake. "Yes," she breathed. "Stay just like this."


	15. Chapter 15

Chibs was sitting alone on the Clubhouse couch when Jax came in. It was mid-afternoon on Saturday and everybody else had found things to do. Still hurting from the night before, Chibs had slept late and was now flipping channels randomly, his sunglasses pulled over his eyes. "Mornin," he mumbled.

Jax grinned. "Hey. You feel as bad as you look?"

"Worse," Chibs groaned.

Jax chuckled, walking towards the bar. "Hair of the dog?" he said, grabbing a beer.

"On it," Chibs replied, lifting the bottle from between his legs.

Jax sat down across from Chibs. "Glad I caught you," he said. "I need to talk to you."

Chibs raised an eyebrow, then winced. "What's goin' on?"

Jax looked uncomfortable. "It's about V," he began. "You and me, gettin' at each other's throats over her before—that can't happen again."

Chibs was puzzled. "Jackie, we already been over this. She chose you. She's with you."

"That's the thing." Jax took a deep breath. "She's not with me. V and me...we're…done."

Chibs smirked. "You been "done" before, kid. You'll figure it out."

Jax shook his head. "We might. But not right now. For now, we're done."

"Why you tellin' me this?" Chibs' face was hard. "You givin' me _permission_ to rub up on V?" He sounded incredulous, and a little bit pissed.

Jax smiled. "Like you'd wait for my permission. What I'm sayin' is…I got no claim on V. She makes her own decisions."

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Chibs finally took of his sunglasses and met Jax's gaze. "Where you goin' with this, Jackie?"

"I don't want V with anybody but me. But she's not with me. And you and me both know she won't sleep alone."

"Can't."

"What?"

"She can't sleep alone."

Both men were quiet for a moment. "I don't know," Jax said slowly, "what it is you did for her before. I don't get that shit and I don't want to. But she's goin' there again." He thought of V telling him he couldn't count on her, that she would let him down. He thought of her stony face when Clay told her that there would be no revenge on Darby, and that he wanted her to box again. "If it's not you, it's gonna be somebody else. I can't protect her. I can't…help her. Maybe you can."

Chibs was stunned. Never in a million years would he have expected this. He had no idea how to take it. "What makes you think I wanna go there again?"

It was Jax's turn to smirk. "I see the way you look at her."

Chibs rolled his eyes. "Lookin' is one thing…doin' is somethin' else. I already stepped off. You won."

"I didn't win." Jax's voice seemed almost too loud in the quiet room. "I can't get her through this. I'm…I'm not gonna go down that road. And I don't want her until she decides that with me is where she wants to be. What you do about that is up to you." He stood and strode out of the room.

-0-

"Left hand up! Left hand up!" Chibs yelled at V for what had to be the fiftieth time, then reached around her fallen left hand and tapped her on the jaw. "You're gonna be hamburger, darlin'. You gotta block with that left."

It had been a strange week. Every day since Clay had asked her to resume fighting, V had spent hours in the ring, either with Chibs or alone. She was focused, dedicated, and extremely stubborn. She seemed neither happy nor reckless—she was quiet and reserved. She hadn't made any mention of their talk in the T-M office, so neither had Chibs.

After his talk with Jax, Chibs had decided the only thing he could do was wait and see how things with V played out. Much as he might like to tell himself he wouldn't let her lead him into temptation again, the truth was that he still wanted her as much as ever. He had no idea, though what V wanted. What she had been through with the Russians might have changed everything for V. She could, as Jax had implied, be headed for some new level of pain seeking, or she could be scared to be touched at all. Since there was no way to know, he waited.

Chibs knew that Clay would start asking soon when V would be ready. Everyone was aware of how much training time they were putting in. The trouble was she wasn't getting any better. She was working in more kicking, and their plan was for her to use her left arm almost exclusively for blocking, depending wholly on her right to deliver punches. But her rhythm was all off, and she was still leaving herself unguarded more often than not. Chibs was worried.

Uncharacteristically, V didn't seem all that frustrated with her progress. She occasionally cursed or gave exasperated sighs, but she didn't throw the tantrums Chibs would have expected. She didn't argue with his corrections to her form, either—she seemed to be taking his advice to heart and attempting to follow it, though her success was limited. He looked at her now, slow circling, gritting her teeth, trying to hold her clearly exhausted left arm up high enough to guard her face. She was dripping sweat, her tank top sticking to her skin, pieces of her hair escaping from its twist and plastered to her neck. Her face was concentrated. She looked tired.

"Let's call it a night, princess." V dropped her hands. He'd thought she would argue, but she didn't. Her left arm hung limply at her side. Chibs nodded towards it. "How bad is it?"

V shook her head. "It's not good," she said, attempting to massage her left bicep with her right hand. "And it's not gettin' a whole hell of a lot better."

"Gotta give it some time." Chibs wasn't all that convinced that time was going to help all that much, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah." She didn't look convinced either. He stepped towards her, pushing her hand away with his and running his thumb against her bicep. It was as close as he'd been to her in a long time, and as innocuous as it was, it excited him. He felt her chest rise and fall against the side of his hand, his mind flashing briefly on other times he'd felt it rise and fall like that. The moment was fleeting, over nearly as soon as it began, but it left him feeling uncharacteristically flustered. Dropping her arm, he stepped backward awkwardly.

V was smiling, not in a teasing, malicious way, but as if she was genuinely pleased about something. It wasn't her typical expression, and it looked good on her. Though he wasn't conscious of it, Chibs smiled back.

After climbing out of the ring, Chibs pulled on his shirt and cut and V sat on the picnic table and pulled strips of tape off her hands. When he glanced her way, Chibs saw V was watching him. She looked as if she had a question, but was trying to figure out how to ask it. Finally, she spoke. "When you were boxin' all the time, did this ever happen to you?" She gestured to her bad arm. "Did you ever get hurt and not get over it as fast as you should have?" She scowled. "I'm startin' to think it's not the arm. I think maybe it's in my head."

Chibs nodded thoughtfully, his hand going automatically to his scarred cheek. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I had somethin' like that happen to me once."

"How'd you get over it?"

Chibs smiled. "Didn't have a choice. Those fights weren't optional. Got my ass kicked for a while. Learned how to lose. Got better eventually."

V nodded. "Guess I'm gonna have to hope I'm as tough as you were."

Chibs snorted. "As tough as I was?" He swung playfully at V. "I'm still pretty fuckin' tough, princess." He gave her a knowing expression. "Don't tell me you already forgot."

V laughed. "Yeah…I guess you're pretty tough."

Chibs smirked. "You can see just how tough I am tomorrow night."

"What's tomorrow night?"

"Tacoma boys? Don't you know about that?"

V looked puzzled. "Gemma mentioned some of the Tacoma charter was coming down this way and there was a party."

"Not just a party! We have a kinda tradition with the Tacoma club. When we go up there or they come down here." Chibs looked excited. "Boxing matches, Club versus Club."

V raised her eyebrows. "Everybody?" She was picturing Bobby and Piney climbing into the ring.

Chibs laughed, imagining what V was picturing. "No, princess, just those who are match fit." He laughed. "You should come. You'd get a kick out of it."

V grinned. "Shirtless, sweaty outlaws beating the shit out of each other? Sign me up."

Chibs shook his head, but laughed. As V turned to walk towards her car, he called after her. "Hey V? You gonna be in my corner tomorrow night?"

V turned back and gave him a long look, as if she was making an important decision. Then she smiled that same pleased smile. "Where the hell else would I be?" she replied.


	16. Chapter 16

"Get over here, I need an extra set of hands!" V had barely walked through the Clubhouse door when Gemma yelled at her from the bar. There were bikers three-deep all around her, each needing something.

V grinned. It was good to see the Queen a bit flustered every now and again. She crossed the room quickly and was opening beers and putting them in outstretched hands before she even dropped her bag.

"Damn, look at you," Gemma glanced at V approvingly. "You decide to be a girl tonight?"

V laughed. "Somethin' like that." She wasn't sure exactly what had gotten into her, except that she was excited about the party. It had been a long few weeks, and she was looking forward to blowing off some steam. At first, she'd thrown on her regular clothes, but then she'd decided to go all out. Wearing well-fitted jeans, high-heeled boots, and a silky white shirt with low cowls dipping down the front and the back, showing off both her cleavage and her ink, V knew she was looking pretty good. Still, compliments from Gemma, even biting ones, were always a surprise.

It didn't take long for Gemma to round up enough Crow Eaters to render V's bartending services unnecessary, and V was happy to grab a beer for herself and leave the bar to wander. The promised fights hadn't started outside yet, but the Clubhouse and parking lot were full of people. There was a pleasant, friendly buzz in the air. It was going to be a good night.

V was quiet, walking around a bit, then propping herself against a wall outside the Clubhouse, lighting a cigarette, and observing the scene. It was much what she would have expected—the Redwood Original Sons talking with their brothers from Washington, laughing, and drinking. Chomping on his cigar, Clay was deep in conversation with the man who must be the Tacoma charter's president. Young men who V guessed were Tacoma prospects surrounded Half-Sack, probably looking for tips on how to survive the constant shit being thrown their way. Feeling a quick, warm surge in her belly, V spotted Happy trading barbs with Tig and a big blonde man, who was motioning towards the ring and laughing. _Good Lord,_ V thought, _dude makes me come giving me a tattoo, then saves my life, and now I've got some sort of crush on him?_ She rolled her eyes at herself.

"Picking out your victim?" Lyla leaned against the wall next to V. "Not a bad field of candidates."

V smiled. She hadn't seen a lot of Lyla since their little girls' night. "Nah," she replied. "Just checkin' things out."

"I heard about you and Jax. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's the right thing."

Lyla looked confused, but didn't argue. Instead, she changed the subject. "You look great! I love that top."

V smiled, grateful for the change of subject. "Thanks."

"What do you know about this fighting thing?" A look of concern crossed Lyla's face. "Ope said something about boxing matches?"

V smiled again. "I wouldn't worry about it. Sounds like friendly stuff."

V was partially right. The first couple of fights, between Half-Sack and one of the Tacoma prospects, then Juice and a young member of the brother charter, were pretty friendly affairs, both of which went SAMCRO's way. It wasn't until Tig and the blonde man from Tacoma—who V now knew was called Kozik—entered the ring that things started to seem a little bit dicey. They were clearly more than willing to put real hurt on each other, which made the whole thing, V thought, a lot more interesting to watch.

V was watching the match intently, noting that Tig actually had pretty good form, though Kozik seemed likely to get the best of him, when Chibs appeared. He had a pre-fight look of anticipation in his eyes, which turned into a different expression as he looked V up and down.

"You really to brawl?" she asked.

Chibs smiled. "Yeah." He was so used to her as something markedly different than the other women he knew, always in the same worn jeans and tank tops, with little makeup, clearly not trying to impress him or anybody else. In the last week especially, spending so many hours with her in the ring, dripping sweat, with rings of rubbed off mascara around her eyes, he'd almost forgotten how pretty she could be. He drank her in now, though, her tanned skin highlighted against the silky white top, the cowl shadowing the valley between her breasts, her shoulders seeming oddly delicate under the thin straps. _Jesus,_ he thought. _She's gorgeous. _By the time he snapped himself out of it, he knew he'd been staring.

V said nothing, just watched Chibs watch her and felt warm inside. She never would have expected to like this feeling, not just the sensation of being wanted, but of being pretty.

A short, stocky man approached Chibs, pulling him into the customary hug by which Sons of Anarchy typically greeted their brothers. "Long time, Chibsie," the man said, his voice rough. Though Chibs returned his greeting, V immediately sensed something off between the two men. For whatever reason, Chibs didn't like this guy.

In the few minutes that followed, V's initial impression was proved right. The guy, whose name was Ricky, was a dick. Everything about him was abrasive. After he learned that V was a boxer, and that Chibs trained her, he would not let up on how soft Chibs must have gotten, to be training girl fighters. Finally, knowing she'd probably deck him if she hung out much longer, V wandered away.

"So that chick can really fight?" Ricky looked skeptical, gesturing after V. "Why the fuck would Sam Crow put a fine piece of ass like that in the ring? You're that hard up for cash, she'd probably make more money on her back." He laughed.

"She can fight," Chibs said, through gritted teeth. Ricky had always gotten on his nerves—no particular beef, the guy was just obnoxious and kind of stupid. "And she's not a hooker."

"Heard she was Jax's Old Lady for a while," Ricky continued. "Can't believe he'd let her box. I'd never let a woman of mine do that. Unless it was in some mud with another chick."

Chibs decided to attempt to change the subject. "So it's you and me next," he said, nodding towards the ring, where Kozik had Tig in a headlock. "You ready?"

Ricky laughed. "I feel sorry for you, Scotsman," he said. "I'm in the best shape of my life. Looks like you've put on a few pounds." He swatted at Chibs' belly.

Chibs moved quickly out of the way, leaving the other man's hand suspended stupidly in mid-air. "I can hold my own," he said easily.

Ricky smirked. "Care to make a friendly wager on it?"

Side betting on the fights was, of course, much of the point. Every match had multiple bets made on it, in a casual, one-on-on way. It was all part of the fun. Still, there was something about the way Ricky said it that made Chibs uneasy. He raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?" He reached down and pulled his wallet chain, lifting his wallet from his pocket. "I got two hundred, maybe three."

"Nah, no money." Seeing V returning to the side of the ring, close enough to hear what he was saying, but out of Chibs' line of sight, Ricky grinned. "Your chick. I win, she spends the night with me."

Chibs rolled his eyes. "She's not my chick," he said. "And I got no claim to use her as my ante."

Kozik and Tig were clearing the ring when V stepped up next to Chibs, having overheard the end of the conversation. She was smirking, her eyes shining in the destructive way the weeks after her murder of King Leo had made familiar. "He'll take that bet," she said.

Chibs turned and looked at her, recognizing the change in her face immediately. _Shit,_ he thought_. There is no way this is gonna turn out good._ And of course, as had to have been her intention, V had left him with no way to get out of the situation without losing face.

"C'mon, you're up!" Bobby called from the ring. Not much on boxing himself, he was serving as the referee/master of ceremonies.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chibs hissed, grabbing V by her shoulder. "You want to get with that fucking muppet?"

"No," V said calmly. "And I don't expect I'll have to. I think you're gonna tear him apart."

"Why's that princess?" Chibs looked exasperated, not sure what game V was playing or if he even wanted to know.

"Because your take is the same as his," V said, smiling. "Beat this asshole down, then take me home."


	17. Chapter 17

As he climbed into the ring and pulled off his shirt and cut, Chibs couldn't help but glance back at V. She was standing just where he'd left her, watching him intently. She was smiling, something halfway between a smirk and a grin. If he'd had an hour to sit and think about it, he probably still wouldn't have been able to sort out what that look did to him. And there was no time. Already, Ricky had climbed into the other corner of the ring.

After the two men moved towards the center and half-heartedly listened to Bobby's comedic recitation of the rules, Ricky began to run his mouth again. As he and Chibs circled one another and began to take warning swings, his banter was constant. V must really want him, since she took the bet. Wasn't Chibs giving V the cock she needed? No matter, she'd know the touch of a real man soon enough. All the typical shit. Chibs wasn't bothered by it—he'd been in enough fights to tune out the smack talk.

What did bother Chibs, however, was that Ricky had apparently not been lying about being in the greatest shape of his life. A head shorter than Chibs, he had a substantial build. Recent time in prison had left him with the muscles formed in hours of nothing to do but lift weights. Chibs, by contrast, had put on a few pounds in recent years, and aside from sparring with V and Half-Sack, hadn't done any real exercise in ages. _Shit,_ he thought. This _is gonna be harder than I'd like. _

Chibs' concerns were warranted. Only a minute or so into the fight, Ricky caught him with a hard left hook, knocking him back against the ropes. Tasting blood in his mouth, Chibs righted himself, blocking quickly to keep it from happening again. _Dammit,_ he thought, _this fucker is going to try to win. _Chibs considered his options. He was unlikely to beat Ricky on brute strength, and he'd get destroyed in the process if he tried—given the rest of his evening plans, that was no good. He'd have to be quicker and smarter, then, and outlast him. Fuck. That didn't sound like a whole lot of fun either.

V's eyes never left the ring. Her cigarette burned between her fingers, forgotten. As was so often the case, she hadn't really given it much thought before she'd accepted the bet on Chibs' behalf, and now she was anxious. She wasn't worried that Chibs would loose—she'd spent enough time in the ring with him to be pretty confident of the Scotsman's skills. Her worry was that Chibs would win and she'd fail as the prize. All week, as she and Chibs had been together in the ring and she'd studiously avoided any situation that could be read as even remotely sexual, she'd been concerned. She wanted him—that had never stopped. She knew he still wanted her. But she had no idea if she was capable of resuming the relationship they'd had before. Much as she tried to block it from her mind, to forget it had ever happened, her kidnapping had changed things.

The fight went on for a long time, which was unusual for these informal brawls. Usually, one or the other contender would call uncle before it got too bloody. Chibs and Ricky, however, continued to circle one another, each getting in several good knocks, until Bobby split them up. "We gonna keep goin' with this, or is that enough?" he asked.

"Chibs wants to give, that's fine," Ricky sneered.

"Not a fuckin' chance," Chibs spat in return, his accent thicker than usual. While he wasn't really enjoying the fight, he'd begun to see it as a necessary evil, the path to a desired end. And the longer it went on, the more he desired that end. Looking up from Bobby, his eyes sought V out again. He was somewhat surprised to find her in the same place, still watching him. She met his eyes and smiled. _Fuck it, I'm finishing this now,_ he thought. _This tosser is not keeping me from that woman._

Bobby gave them the go ahead to start again, and this time Chibs came out stronger. He did his best to ignore the pounding he was getting and focused on giving a worse one. It didn't take much longer. Though the fight ended with Chibs' nose bloody and lip swollen, it ended with him standing.

As the other members of the Redwood Original crowded around Chibs to congratulate him and thank him for the money they'd won on his victory, V retreated to her spot against the Clubhouse wall, continuing to watch. She'd never seen Chibs fight before, beyond training sparring with Half-Sack, and by the end of the brawl her knees were weak. It was as if she has seen not only what he was now, his middle-aged weight gain and gray hair, but what he had been twenty-five years ago, when he was just a Glasgow street thug. Especially compared to his unwieldy, if brutishly strong, opponent, he fought with such grace. Even if she hadn't know when it felt like to be in the ring herself, V would have been astounded. Because she did know, she was reverent. V knew her own fickleness, and that, often, one man was just as good as another. That wasn't the case tonight. She felt her desire burn inside her, smoldering, waiting. She might be surrounded by strong, tan bikers, many of whom were younger and more attractive than the man she'd watched in the ring, but he was the only one she wanted.

Chibs moved slowly away from the ring and his congratulating brothers and towards V. As he walked to her, she stared at him, the sweat glistening on his tattooed chest, his hair curling around his ears. Her gaze was hungry. He felt his pulse, only just slowing after the fight, begin to speed again. When he reached her, he extended a hand and twined the fingers through the strap of her shirt, pulling her into him. "I'm goin' to take a shower," he drawled, his voice low. "When I get done, I'm claimin' my prize."

"Shower fast." V meant it to come out as a command, but it sounded more like a plea. Her heart was racing and her skin tingled where his fingers brushed against it.

Chibs sneered. "You gotta learn to be patient, Princess," he said. "Long as you've made me wait, I think you can handle it." Before she could say anything else, he let go of her top and disappeared into the Clubhouse.

-0-

When Chibs returned to the Clubhouse's main room, his wet hair curling around the collar of the only halfway clean shirt he could find, V was the first person he saw. She was standing at the bar, downing shots, her back to him. The rest of the room was mostly empty, the party having largely moved outside when the fights began. The music was still playing, Juice's iPod connected to the speakers above the bar, and V was swaying with it slightly.

"You drinkin' cuz you're scared?" Chibs voice was in V's ear before she ever knew he was behind her. His hands rested lightly on her hips and she could feel his breath against her cheek.

V wasn't sure how to respond. In truth, she was a little scared. Excited, nervous, aroused, but also scared. Before she could figure out what to say, Chibs spoke again. His voice remained low, but it was clear that he was serious. As he spoke, he turned around to face him. "Princess, I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't wanna do. If you're not ready for this, that's OK."

V shook her head. Swallowing, she raised her eyes to meet his. "No fuckin' way you are puttin' me off now," she said. "You're not the only one who's been waiting."

Smiling, Chibs pushed her back against the bar, pressing his whole body against hers as he kissed her. The kiss was long and slow and gentle, his tongue probing her mouth tentatively, licking the whiskey from her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into him, letting her mind go blessedly blank.

When Chibs finally pulled away, she moved back towards him, the hungry look having returned to her eyes. "Take me home," she said, not trying to disguise the plea this time.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. He thought briefly about just pulling her back to his room, which was much closer, but decided against it. _Let's do this right this time. _

As the door to her little brick house clicked shut, V felt a new wave of anxiety overcome her. She turned to face Chibs, who was standing in the middle of her small living room, looking around curiously. She hadn't wanted to, but she knew she was going to have to say something. Seeing she was about to speak, Chibs was quiet, watching her face as she searched for the words.

"I need you to know," she finally said, "how…how much I want you. Seeing you in the ring tonight…" she faltered. Biting her lip, she started again. "But I _am_ scared. I don't know…I don't know how it will be, now."

Chibs felt a surge in his chest, of anger, for what had been done to her, but also of pride. She was telling him this, not hiding it, not lying. That had to be some kind of progress. "It can be however you want it to be," he said softly. "It doesn't have to be like before." He wondered, as he said it, if he was telling the truth. Could he and V relate to each other any other way? There was only one way to find out. He reached out to V, waiting for her to take his extended hand. "I can be as gentle as you'll let me be."

V looked a little shy as she led him down the hall to her bedroom. Once there, they looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, neither of them certain how to proceed on this familiar but new ground. Finally, V stepped towards Chibs, running her hands underneath his cut and lifting it off, then depositing it on the room's only chair. She followed suit with his shirt, smiling at his rumpled hair after it went over his head. She laid her palms flat against his chest, one on each side of the large cross he wore around his neck. She ran her hands up to his shoulders, then down his arms. He watched her with interest, loving the heat of her palms against his skin and the intent look on her face.

Stepping back from Chibs, V picked up the hem of her white shirt and lifted it over her head. She wore no bra. Chibs ran his eyes down her neck, over her breasts, to her scarred and tattooed stomach. The tattooed knife was larger than he'd remembered it. The scar next to it was smaller. He dropped easily to his knees in front of her, his eyes level with her stomach. Looking up at her quickly to gauge her reaction and seeing her face look only peaceful and curious, he ran his tongue slowly over the scar, first in one direction, then the other. She inhaled deeply, her breath catching her throat and a small moan escaping. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, standing again and backing her up to the bed. "Lay down."

After V laid down, Chibs finished undressing her slowly, unzipping and removing her boots, then working her jeans and panties down her legs. He never went more than a moment without his eyes flitting quickly to her face, checking for signs of anything but pleasure there. He found none. As she lay there, he took off his boots and jeans, then lay down beside her, propping himself up on an elbow so he could see her whole body. Still he saw no apprehension in her face. "You don't have to keep checking," she said softly, smiling. "I'm not gonna freak out." She moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck again, finding his lips with hers.

As they kissed, he ran his hands up and down her body, learning her again, as if he was making sure everything was as he'd left it. She felt much the same, curvy in places and hard muscled in others. When he slipped his hand between her legs, she opened them and tilted her hips towards him, clearly more than ready. Pushing two fingers inside her, he felt her shudder, then heard her moan against his mouth. When she pulled away for breath, her eyes met his. They were clear and lusty, completely devoid of anything resembling pain. "Oh God," she moaned, moving back towards him.

Chibs reached is other hand out and stopped her, holding her far enough away so that he could clearly see her face. "I want to watch you come," he said, twisting his hand so his thumb pressed against her outside while his fingers were inside.

V exhaled through her nose, holding her teeth together so she wouldn't scream. Chibs' fingers were practiced and it didn't take long. "Please, don't stop," she begged, her hips bucking against his hand. He watched her muscles contract, her body seeming to lift completely off the bed. Just the sight of it was just about enough to do him in.

Though it was all he could do, Chibs waited until V's eyes reopened before touching her again. "More?" he asked, grinning, running his fingers over her breast. V reached towards him, clearing intending to pull him on top of her. He raised an eyebrow and met her gaze. "You sure?"

"God, yes."

That was the last affirmation he needed.


	18. Chapter 18

V tipped her head back, gasping hard to catch her breath as she slumped against the mattress. Her legs were quivering and she was only vaguely aware of her arms. "Fuck. GodDAMN."

Crashed next to her with his face in a pillow, Chibs smiled. She cursed like a sailor before and during sex, too, but he particularly liked to hear it afterwards. He was spent. The fight had taken more out of him than he'd have liked, and the time since, here in V's bedroom, had been its own special brand of exhausting. _Jesus_, he though, _I hope she's satisfied. There is no fuckin' way I can go another round._

It was several minutes before either of them spoke again, each concentrating on enjoying the short-lived post-coital bliss. Finally, Chibs gathered enough energy to turn over and prop himself up to look at her. V's eyes were closed; her face looked calm and happy. Chibs felt a surge of pride. "You gonna fall asleep?" he asked.

V opened her eyes and smiled. "No." She sighed. "Christ, I missed you."

"Same to you, princess." Chibs was stunned. Just when he thought there were no more sides to V, here came another one. Never, when he'd imagined being with her again, had the possibility of this scene entered his mind. She seemed so…content.

V reached up and ran one finger gently down the sides of Chibs' face, tracing up and down, first one scar and then the other. He'd had enough women do exactly the same thing to know what she was doing, so he was braced for it when she asked the question. "Someday, will you tell me how you got these?"

He smiled, catching her fingertip with his lips and pulling it between them for a second before letting it go. Usually, he hated both the question and the gesture—he certainly wasn't above taking advantage of a woman thinking his scarred face was sexy, but he didn't want to talk about it and he made that known right off. For some reason, though, he didn't mind it from V. "Yeah," he said. "I'll tell you right now, if you want."

"No," V shook her head and sighed that happy sigh again. "We got plenty of time for pain. Let's be about something else for tonight." She looked up at him, something slightly embarrassed in her eyes. "You'll stay, won't you?"

He smiled wider. He didn't want anything to ruin this evening either. It felt weirdly magical and he wouldn't dream of leaving. "Damn right I'm staying," he said. "C'mere." He pulled her towards him. She laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes again. He picked up strands of her hair and twisted them around his fingers, then let them drop.

"Tell me a story," she said, her voice muffled.

"A story?" He shook his head and grinned again. "What kinda story?"

"Doesn't matter," she said. "I just want to hear you talk."

_Jesus_, Chibs thought, _who are you and where is V?_ As if she could read his mind, V laughed. He liked the feeling against his chest. "Is that stupid?"

"Not at all." Chibs thought for a moment, then began to tell V about his first paid fights, when he was a kid in Scotland. He left out the really rough parts, focusing on his youth and stupidity and the occasional moment of triumph. He'd always been a good storyteller. She interrupted occasionally, asking questions or laughing softly, but mostly she was quiet, listening. Eventually, he felt her breath begin to change, and after a long time, he stopped talking and listened to her regular breathing. "Goodnight, princess," he whispered, moving her slightly so he could lie down, but making sure her head stayed on his chest. He knew he should be worried about what the next day would bring—there was no way a night like this was going to last until morning—but he just couldn't make himself care.

-0-

It was more than a little tempting to wake V up, if only to check and see if her mood of the night before could possibly carry over to the next day, but Chibs restrained himself. Knowing how exhausted she'd been, it seemed like the best idea to let her sleep. As he rose, Chibs was assaulted by what had to have been every muscle screaming—some angered by the too-long fight, some by the strange position he'd slept in. "Not as fuckin' young as I used to be," he muttered, heading towards the bathroom. There was no shower in the world hot enough to make this soreness disappear.

In the shower, Chibs picked up V's soap and inhaled deeply. Though she generally didn't seem much for "girly" stuff—the collection of bottles and tubs on her counter was a lot sparser than those of most of the women he'd been with—she always used this same soap, and smelling it was like smelling her. As he lathered it over his skin and let the hot water beat on his sore back, Chibs replayed the previous night in his head. By the time he got out of the shower, he was only a bit less sore, but he was smiling.

After he dried off, Chibs returned to V's bedroom, where she was still fast asleep. Finding his jeans, he pulled out his phone to check the time and was dismayed to see it was much later than he'd thought. They were both already late for work. He looked at V. She'd pushed the sheet off and was lying on her back, stark naked. He grinned. If he was going to have to wake her up, might as well do it the fun way. Since they were late anyway, what could a quick tumble matter?

If Chibs had given it any thought, he never would have done what he did next. He knew, if he'd only taken a minute to think about it, what a horrible idea it was. But he didn't think. He didn't think about anything beyond how his cock was hardening as he watched her sleep, and how good he knew she felt. And so, with only those thoughts in mind, he lowered his body on to hers on the bed, nudging himself between her thighs and pressing his lips against hers.

From there, it was a blur. One second, Chibs was on top of V, rapidly hardening and expecting her body would respond to his even before she was fully awake. The next, he was on his back, V's fear-twisted face filling his entire field of vision and a cold, smooth knife blade against his throat. She was yelling, and he could hear her, but a strong fight-or-flight response, sudden panic at the feeling of the knife at his throat, and then, almost instantly, the realization of what he'd done wrong all filled his mind, and it was impossible to make out her words.

Only a second later, V, too, realized what had happened. Shaking, she stared at Chibs. Her mouth was still open, but she wasn't making a sound. "V?" his voice was soft, falsely calm. "Baby? Can you put the knife down?"

As V slowly pulled the knife from Chibs' neck, a small trickle of blood ran down his throat. The cut wasn't deep, but V stared at it, still silent. Then she lifted the hand with the knife in it and stared at it. "Oh my God." She moved abruptly, climbing off Chibs and out of the bed. "Oh my God."

"Hey," Chibs said, sitting up and moving towards her. "It's OK. You're OK. It's just me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

V backed away from him, the knife still in her hand. Her face was still scared, but now confused, too, and ashamed. She looked very much like she was going to cry, though there were no tears in her eyes.

Chibs could only imagine what was going through her head, what she'd awakened to think was happening to her. _How could I be so fucking stupid? _"I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't think. I…" he trailed off, not sure how he could even begin to explain.

"I thought…" she didn't finish her sentence either. "I…I could have killed you."

They stared at each other, neither at all sure what to say next. V was still shaking, her lower jaw trembling so hard her teeth rattled. Though she kept closing her eyes and re-opening them, she still wasn't really seeing Chibs in front of her. She knew it was him, knew he was the only one there, but still, her mind was back in her apartment, surrounded by laughing, jeering men. She dropped the knife on the floor with a soft thud and grabbed her left arm with her right. "Get out." Her voice was so soft he could barely make it out, even in the silent room.

"C'mon, princess, you gotta calm down." Chibs stood up and took a step towards her. "It'll be OK. Nothing's gonna hurt you." He reached out to her again, but she stepped backwards, her back hitting the wall.

"Get out," she repeated, louder this time. "Get out. Get out. Get out." Each word got louder, until she was yelling again. Her eyes were open too wide, her right hand gripping her left arm so hard she was leaving marks.

"OK," Chibs backed up, raising his hands. He didn't want to leave her, but he wasn't sure he had a choice. He had no idea how to fix this. He dressed quickly, his eyes on her, and she continued to stare at him, though he didn't think he was really all she was seeing. "Are you sure? Should I call…" he trailed off. There was nobody for him to call. Whatever was happening in V's head, she was dealing with it on her own.

V seemed a bit calmer now, but she nodded. "Please," she said, her voice soft again. "Just leave me alone."

"OK." Picking up his cut off the chair and throwing it on, Chibs turned towards the door. "I'm sorry," he said again, not sure what else to say. She didn't answer.

The front door had only just clicked shut behind Chibs when V sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her still nude body and rocking back and forth. The crying was more like wailing, and if she'd been able to think clearly, she'd have worried that the sound of it would bring Chibs back. The terror, the anger, the pain, and the humiliation all welled up inside her, coming out in her keening. _How incredibly naïve, _she thought, _to have spent last night so happy, pretending things could be normal. _Nothing was ever going to be normal. She was never going to be happy. And she knew, now, just how much forgetting that hurt.


	19. Chapter 19

No sooner had Chibs pulled into Teller-Morrow and dismounted his bike than Gemma was stalking across the lot towards him, clearly in a huff. "Where the hell is V?" She looked pissed. "I am already late for a goddamn nail appointment because that girl can't bother to get to work on time."

Chibs sighed, any hope he'd had of slipping into work under the radar clearly dashed. "Uh," he said, not sure how to put Gemma off, "she's still at home."

"Why the fuck is she still at home?" Gemma's voice made it clear that putting her off wasn't going to be an option.

"It's my fault," Chibs said, hoping that somehow that would help.

Gemma laughed her acerbic little laugh. "What, did you lose the key to the cuffs?" As she was saying it, though, she looked closely at Chibs' face for the first time and realized there was something going on beyond the usual V-related exploits. "Wait a minute," she said, reaching up and grabbing Chibs' chin so she could get a better look at him. "What the hell is going on?"

Chibs knew V wouldn't want Gemma, of all people, to know what had happened that morning. Still, she was a smart woman, she'd seen a lot, and he was a little bit out of his depth with this. So, he decided, he might as well tell her the truth. Some of it, anyway. "V…she's…I don't know. She's dealin' with some shit."

"V's always been dealin' with some shit." Gemma peered at Chibs suspiciously. "Way I remember it, you were "helpin'" her deal with some shit not very long ago."

Chibs ignored the barb. "This is different…I…she thought I was somebody else. She…thought I was…" he couldn't finish.

Gemma understood, or understood well enough. "Those fuckin' Russians," she said. "Jesus." She sighed. "The doctors, they said stuff like that could happen. Wanted her to talk to someone—you know, a shrink. Of course, she wouldn't."

Chibs nodded. He wasn't sure what else to say, or what to do. Mostly, he wished he could just disappear into the garage and try to forget any part of that morning had ever happened.

"You left her alone?" Gemma's voice was incredulous. "She was havin' some sort of freak-out and you left her alone?"

"She told me to leave. Pretty sure she woulda shot me if I hadn't."

"You're probably right." Gemma sighed. "Should I go?"

"No. She said she wanted to be alone. But I don't think she'll be comin' in."

"Alright. I'll cover for her. But just for today."

"Thanks, Gemma."

As Chibs started to walk away, Gemma grabbed his arm. "This…you and her…that startin' up again, then?"

"I don't know."

"Jax says they're through. Didn't take her long to hook up with you again. That sit right with you?"

"She needs me, I'm here."

"That's not what I asked."

Chibs smiled slightly. Trust Gemma to cut right through the bullshit. "I don't know," he said again. "I got no idea how it goes down with V and me. But..." he wasn't sure what to say. He certainly wasn't going to tell Gemma how he felt about V, if he could even figure it out himself.

Gemma shook her head. "With my kid, I get it," she said. "He thinks he can fix her. But you oughta know better. That bitch is crazy and that ain't gonna change. Haven't you had enough crazy women for one lifetime?"

Chibs smiled again, knowing Gemma was referring to Fiona. "Can't help it," he said, "the crazy ones just like me."

Shaking her head, Gemma turned and walked back towards the office.

-0-

Though he wouldn't have believed it until it happened, his conversation with Gemma turned out to be the highlight of Chibs' morning. He had been in the garage barely an hour, noticing the smirks he was getting from his brothers, but not responding to them, when Clay came in, stony-faced. "At the table," he said. "Now."

Heading to Church in the middle of the workday always meant something bad. This time was no different. "Where the fuck is V?" Clay asked as soon as the door was shut. He was staring at Chibs, clearly expecting him to answer.

"She's at home," Chibs answered, feeling his stomach drop. "Not feelin' good." That seemed like the safest bet.

Clay's face was murderous. "Just got a call from Unser," he said. "Seems _somebody _hit Darby last night. Shot up his goddamn house."

"Is he dead?" Tig didn't mince words.

"No. At Saint Thomas. In critical." Clay turned to Chibs. "Tell me that stupid bitch didn't sweet talk you into helping her pull this off."

"No," Chibs shook his head. "And she didn't do it, either." His mind was racing. He knew V couldn't have attacked Darby, but would the club believe that? "I was with her last night, Clay. There's no way she could have done this." Chibs avoiding looking around the table, but felt Jax's eyes on him.

"Not how she would have done it either, brother." Happy's raspy voice came as a surprise—he spoke so rarely it was easy to forget he was filling his chair in the corner. "She'd been the one to take him out, she'd get close enough to make sure he wasn't gettin' up." Slowly, the men around the table nodded, remembering V's choosing not to use the gun in her hand, but instead to slit King Leo's throat.

Clay didn't look convinced. "Be just like her to think she could do whatever she wanted," he said. He peered at Chibs again. "Don't lie for her."

"Not lyin'," Chibs replied evenly. "I was with her, at her house."

"And she's not here this mornin' because she's sick?" Bobby looked skeptical.

Chibs sighed. Unlike with Gemma, he could see no possible good in sharing what had happened this morning with his brothers. Unfortunately, saving V's ass was more important than protecting her privacy. "She's…she's kinda freaking out," he said.

"Freaking out? What the fuck does that mean?" Tig was growing impatient.

"Somethin'…somethin' triggered her." Chibs looked at Jax, hoping for a lifeline. He could see Jax beginning to understand what he was saying. "The shit that happened with the Russians. It all came back. She kinda lost it."

Across the table, Jax was nodding. He had been prepared for something like that to happen, to wake up with V huddled and sobbing, or to fend off a late-night attack when she woke up from a dream thinking he was there to hurt her. It had never happened, in all the weeks they'd been together since her abduction. Why now, then? "What triggered her?" he asked, frowning at Chibs. "Seems like doin' a driveby might do it."

"No, Jackie," Chibs was disappointed. He hadn't expected that Jax would really be OK with him getting with V again, but he didn't expect this reaction, either. "Nothin' like that." He met his brother's eyes. _I'm sorry, Jax,_ he thought. _But this isn't about you. Not about me, either. This is about getting Clay off V's back._ He turned back to Clay. "Really, brother. There is no way she coulda done this."

Clay looked around the table, looking for reactions. "I got no idea what V is really capable of," Bobby said, "but I don't see Chibs lyin'." Opie nodded, as did Juice. Finally, Jax nodded, too.

Tig scowled. "Then who the fuck did it? Who wants to kill Darby, besides V?"

"Drug beef maybe?" Juice asked. "Unser got anything?"

"No," Clay said. "He'll call back if he hears any more." He nodded towards Tig. "You and Chibs, head to the hospital. See if Darby's talkin'. Juice, you get on phone, see if anything else went down last night, anything might be drug related." He turned his glare towards Chibs. "You start lyin' to this Club over pussy, we're gonna have a big fuckin' problem."

Chibs stared back at Clay. "I start lyin' to this Club over pussy, you oughtta take me out yourself," he said. "I ain't lyin.'"


	20. Chapter 20

_Reader challenge!_

_I am getting a fair few readers, but not anywhere so near as many reviews as I'd like, so I have a challenge for those who are brave enough to take it! Nearly every chapter I write begins around one line of dialog I particularly want to use. I hear that line in my head and then figure out how to make it work in context. This one is no different. Can you spot that line? Leave me a review and tell me which one it is!_

-0-

It was only early afternoon when V came into the office. Gemma watched her walk in and noticed that she didn't look like someone who had spent the morning falling apart. In a black tank top, worn jeans, boots, and sunglasses, she looked pretty much exactly like she looked any other day. The way she came in, though, wasn't typical. She was apologizing before she'd even shut the door. "Gemma, I'm so sorry…"

Gemma waved her hand. "Been slow. Everybody got a late start today." She looked V up and down again, reaffirming her assessment that there wasn't anything noticeably off about her. "Besides, you got way bigger things to worry about."

V looked questioning. Gemma didn't wait for her to ask. "Clay wants to see you. Now."

"What did I do?"

"Club business. Just go find him."

As she left the office, V rolled her eyes. Trust Gemma to plead ignorance of club business whenever her knowledge might come in handy. There was nothing about the Club that woman didn't know.

When V found Clay in the garage, he didn't say a word, just nodded towards the clubhouse, then followed her inside, Jax beside him. Neither of them spoke until they were in the Chapel. V felt Jax's eyes on her, but didn't meet his gaze. The whole situation had her even more on edge than she'd been already.

Clay didn't mince words. "You take a shot at Darby last night?" He was glaring at V, making her feel trapped in his stare.

"What?" V was confused. She hadn't really known what to expect coming in here, but this certainly wasn't it. Darby?

"Somebody did a drive by on Darby's place last night," Jax said. "He's at St. Thomas. In critical."

V looked at Jax now. His expression was hard to read. He wasn't glaring like Clay, but he didn't look particularly friendly, either. "No, Jesus," V shook her head. "Of course not."

"You sure about that?" Clay's face hadn't changed.

V looked at him with wide eyes. Did he seriously think she'd done this? Christ. "Yeah, I'm sure. Look," she sighed," you can ask Chibs. He was with me."

Clay turned from V towards Jax. "That gonna be a problem?" he asked.

"No." Jax didn't elaborate.

"Good. One more thing we don't need." He returned his attention to V. "I'd better not find out you had anything to do with this."

V felt her temper rise. Fuck this old man. He clearly already knew she'd been with Chibs and had an alibi, so why the fuck was he making her say it? Just to try to get at Jax? She met his gaze, feeling her own eyes turn cold as she did. "You and me need to get somethin' straight," she said. "You think I don't get it. I do. I serve at the pleasure of the goddamn king. This club saved my life, and it's your club. I don't like lettin' Darby off, but if that's the way it's gotta be, then that's the way it is. I didn't shoot the motherfucker, and I'm not gonna head to St. Thomas and hold a pillow over his ugly Nazi face, either."

Clay smiled meanly. "That's quite the speech. You practice that?"

V didn't respond, just continued to glare in his direction.

"V, everybody understands why you hate Darby," Jax said.

V cut him off. "I don't think you have a fucking clue why I hate Darby," she replied. "But you don't need to. It's not your problem." She looked at Clay again. "That all you wanted?"

Clay smiled again. "Since you got your back up, no, there's somethin' else. You got a fight. Next weekend."

"Fine." V got up then and left the room without a further glance at either one of them.

Clay chuckled. "Guess makin' her into an Old Lady was never really in the cards."

Jax didn't answer. As was so often the case, he felt like taking a swing at his stepfather, but he knew he wouldn't, and there was no use arguing with him, either. He couldn't reconcile this hostile, closed-off V with the woman he'd been with so recently, but he had seen her coming and he wasn't surprised at her appearance. He was strangely relieved, too, to see her go.

-0-

"Hey, you got a minute?" Chibs was just leaving the garage when V approached. He was surprised to see her, and doubly surprised that she was coming up to him so calmly. He wasn't sure how she'd react to what had happened that morning, but his best guess had been avoidance. Here she was, though, standing in front of him, looking just like she always looked.

"Yeah," he looked around, checking instinctively to see who could be listening. "You want to talk about this morning?"

V shook her head. "No." She began to walk towards the boxing ring. He followed her, sitting next to her on the picnic table.

"It was my fault," he began. He couldn't really think of anything he could say to make what happened any better, but figured starting with taking the blame was always a safe bet.

V stopped him. "We don't need to talk about it. It won't happen again. It's done."

Chibs peered at her, wondering what she meant by it not happening again. This had better not be her telling him to shove off. "Princess, it might happen again," he said, but once again she interrupted.

"I got a fight. Next weekend."

"What?"

"Talked to Clay. He wants me to fight next weekend."

Chibs shook his head. "You're not ready."

"Then get me ready." V stood up. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. We gotta step things up. I need you to spar with me for real—no more bullshit."

Chibs had the odd sensation that the conversation was a moving target that he couldn't quite get a hold on. "Wait a minute, back up. You talked to Clay. He tell you about Darby?"

V nodded, clearly impatient. "Yeah. I told him I didn't have anything to do with it. He said you already covered for me. Thanks." Her tone was curt. "Now can we get in the ring? I'm serious; you gotta work me for real now. No pulling punches."

Chibs stared at her. "Princess," he said slowly, "I don't hold back, I'm gonna hurt you. You know that."

For the first time since the conversation began, V smiled. "Now you're getting it. You know that lesson about pain you promised? Let's have it."

Chibs closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. So this is where they were now. OK, he could roll with that. "Come here." V stepped towards him. He pulled her between his legs, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "You sure you want that lesson in the ring?" he smirked.

"Old Man," she replied, her voice low, "I want that lesson _everywhere_." She moved slightly closer to him and lowered her voice even further. "But consider this your only warning. I think for a minute you're goin' easy on me? Treatin' me like I get some kind of injury pass? I'm gone." She pulled out of his grasp.

_Reading you loud and clear_, Chibs thought. He wasn't really surprised this was the direction she'd gone. You do what you know. His mind returned briefly to his conversation with Gemma, her chiding him about crazy women. It was insane and stupid to even be thinking about getting back on this ride with V. He knew, because he'd done it before, how likely it was that he'd end up hating her and himself. But here he was anyway, standing up and heading with her into the ring.


	21. Chapter 21

"Goddammit!" Chibs stopped in the middle of the ring, grabbing V's right hook before it could connect and throwing her hand back at her. "If you're not going to fucking block, we're done." The spar had started out pretty well—V had clearly been paying attention and had blocked every punch for the first few minutes. Then she'd dropped her left hand a bit and he'd caught her with a jab to the jaw. Just after that, he'd seen her smile and had a sinking feeling, and not a minute later, she waited for a hard left cross and dropped her hands. He'd connected with her cheek and the corner of her mouth, which was now trickling blood.

"Calm down," she said, rolling her eyes.

"If you're tryin' to get ready for a fight, that's one thing," Chibs growled. "If you're just lookin' to get beat up, I got shit to do."

V laughed. "What shit? Don't pretend there's somewhere you'd rather be. You may tell yourself you're doin' this all for me, but I think we both know there's more to it."

Chibs looked at her incredulously. "You think this gets me off? You think I like hittin' women?"

V laughed again. "I've got no idea if you like hitting other women," she said, "and I don't really give a shit. But yeah, I think you like hitting me." She met his glare with a sneering smile, daring him to argue.

Chibs felt his temper simmering. He knew that pissing him off was exactly what she was trying to do, and it infuriated him that it was working. He clenched his teeth. "That fight will be comin' up fast," he said. "Better get back to it."

V grinned. She knew she was getting under his skin. As they began circling each other again, she resumed paying attention, blocking his punches and throwing a few of her own. He clearly wasn't unleashing on her, but neither was he treading too softly. She tasted the blood in her mouth. _Time to up the ante_. Moving quickly, giving good evidence to Chibs' assumption that she could have blocked earlier when she hadn't, she ducked a punch and moved closer to him, grabbing his crotch with her right hand. When she felt exactly what she'd expected, she smiled. "Tell me," she whispered, her face close to his, her hand remaining where it was, "did you start gettin' hard before I started bleeding, or after?"

It took all the self-control Chibs could muster then not to throw her to the mat. He remembered, almost groaning, confessing to her at some point the evening before that just watching her in the ring could get him hard. Less than 24 hours later, they were a world away from where they'd been when he said it, and he couldn't believe he'd let his guard down.

"Bitch," he spat, pulling away from her and re-raising his fists. V didn't respond, just backed up slightly and raised her fists again as well.

When Jax approached the ring, V and Chibs were back into it, each punching and blocking with focus. V had managed to get to Chibs once, with a kick to the back o of the knee he knew he'd been feeling for a week. Chibs had caught V once more, too, this time in spite of her best efforts, and the trickle of blood running from her lip was now matched by a gash on her cheek. She was having the trouble they had both expected protecting her left side, but was gritting her teeth with determination, her eyes never leaving Chibs. She didn't even notice Jax's arrival.

"Can I interrupt, or is this serious training?" Jax was smiling, but it didn't look all that friendly. "I need to talk to you."

Startled, V started to turn around. Chibs took advantage of her distraction and tapped her on the jaw, much more gently than he'd been doing previously. "Pay attention," he barked. "You know better than to look away."

V looked irritated, but didn't answer. She turned to Jax. "Me?"

"No, Chibs." The air felt heavy and tense. V scowled again.

"You're done," Chibs said, looking at V and nodding towards the parking lot. "Go home." To Jax's complete surprise, V didn't argue, but hopped out of the ring and began walking towards the Charger without another word to either of them.

As Chibs climbed under the ropes and sat down on the picnic table, Jax stared at him. Though he knew better even as he was asking, he couldn't help himself. "How the fuck," he said incredulously, "did you do that?"

"Do what, kid?" Chibs was lighting a cigarette.

"Most times, somebody even makes a suggestion to her and she's gonna do the opposite. You tell her to go and she just…does it?"

Chibs looked at Jax with a raised eyebrow. _You know you don't want an answer to that, Jackie_.

Realizing what Chibs was thinking, Jax pursed his lips in irritation. "Right," he said. "Nevermind."

"So what's up?" Chibs asked, hoping it wasn't about V. Talking to Jax about V was never going to be a good scene.

"This fight," Jax said, his eyes still on V as she got into her car across the lot. "I don't like it." He turned from V and looked at Chibs. "I think Clay is setting her up to lose."

Chibs nodded. The thought had crossed his mind as well. There was no real reason for Clay to be so anxious to see V back in the ring, especially after he'd been told she might not win. If she didn't win, the Club didn't make any money. There had to be something else to it.

"She loses, that makes her weaker," Jax continued. "Keeps her in her place."

Chibs smirked. Clay had to be smart enough to know it would take more than a lost fight to keep V "in her place." Whatever her place was.

"He could get her hurt," Jax said.

Chibs shook his head. As usual, the kid didn't seem to get what V was capable of. "Nothin' anybody can do in a ring gonna hurt as much as what's she's already been through," he said. "She can handle it."

Jax knew Chibs was thinking about whatever had happened between he and V that morning. He felt a wave of jealousy, then another of disgust. Chibs watched the emotions play on his face, wondering if Jax had any idea how transparent he was. _You're the one who gave her up,_ he thought. _Don't get pissy about it now._

"Doesn't look like she's handlin' it very well today," Jax said, his voice taking a snarly tone. "Her face was busted up." It was accusatory.

"She's a boxer, that happens," Chibs said, remaining calm. Still, he felt defensive. What accusation was Jax making? He could still hear V's low voice taunting in his ears—_did you start gettin' hard before I started bleeding, or after?_ "Not like you never been in a fight, Jackie. You know how that goes."

Jax shook his head. "Different when it's a woman," he said. "She shouldn't be doin' this."

That, of course, was the heart of it. Even if he didn't think Clay was up to something, Jax still wouldn't want V in the ring. "She's gonna do it anyway," Chibs said. "Even if she knew Clay was settin' her up, she'd do it."

"And you'd let her." Again, Jax's voice was accusatory.

"Not my call." Chibs' patience was wearing thin. He thought about leaving it there, but figured he may as well continue. "But even if it was, yeah, I'd let her. She needs this."

"Even if she loses?"

"Especially then." Chibs ground his smoke out against the scarred table.

Jax shook his head. "You're awful sure about what she needs." It was almost petulant.

"We gonna do this again?" Chibs sighed, exasperated. As if V wasn't a big enough pain in the ass. He had no desire to down this road with Jax, especially when he'd taken up with V again only after Jax's suggestion that he do so.

"No." Jax stood up. "Just thought you should know you could be walkin' into somethin' with this fight."

Chibs nodded. He wished there was something else he could say, but knew nothing was going to make this better. _Do yourself a favor, Jackie_, he thought. _Just let this one go. There is nothing good for you here._


	22. Chapter 22

_Things are going to take a turn for the dark here, y'all, and could be very triggering, particularly for those who have suffered sexual and/or physical abuse. If you think that's going to be a problem for you, please feel free to stop reading. Nobody will hold it against you. Also, it's sexually graphic. _

-0-

Until he was actually turning on to her street, Chibs told himself he wasn't going to show up at V's that night. He held out for quite a while—it was just after midnight when he parked the bike in front of her place. Still, it didn't even occur to him as he walked towards the door that she wouldn't be there, or that she'd be asleep. He knew, as if he could see through the walls, that she was waiting for him.

V answered the door only seconds after Chibs' knock. He could see where she must have been sitting, only a few feet away. There was a bottle open on the folding table, a glass next to it with an inch or so of whiskey still in it. She'd clearly showered recently; her hair was hanging wet down her back. Her face was scrubbed clean. She was wearing only a raggedy a-shirt and those stupid cotton boy-style underwear she liked. She looked, Chibs thought, much more like a little girl than like the woman he'd been in the ring with only hours before. Amazing how fast she could change.

Her hands were on him before the door was shut. She kissed him unexpectedly hard, taking his breath away. It took him only a moment to respond, taking control and turning her so it was her back, rather than his, against the door. She didn't fight, just kissed him hungrily, one hand under his cut, against his heart, the other tangling in the hair growing messy over his collar.

When the kiss finally ended, Chibs kept his arms around her. "You drunk?" His voice was low and husky.

"Yeah."

He peered at her, assessing her condition. Though it was clear she'd had a lot to drink, she still looked cognizant. Her eyes were a bit glassy, but she met his gaze. She'd caught him off guard with the kiss, but he could still do what he came here to do. He took his arms from around her waist and grabbed her hands, pushing them over her head and up against the door and holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. "You and me," he said, his voice still just above a growl, "need to get a few things straight."

She didn't respond, but he could tell she was paying attention. She was breathing shallowly, her chest rising and falling visibly under the thin cotton shirt. He had to force himself to look up, not to get distracted by the clear outline of her pierced nipples. "First off," he said, tightening his grip on her wrists to make sure she knew he was serious, "if I hit you, it's because you need it. Got nothin' to do with what I like. Just givin' you a little bit of what you deserve."

V smiled that irritating smirky smile. Before she had a chance to make any sort of retort, though, he cut her off. "Don't get fuckin' clever." It was clear the words were a warning, and, for the moment, she didn't say anything. "Next thing is this: when you're in the ring, you fight. Doesn't matter who is in there with you—me, Sack, some chick, anybody. In the ring, you cause pain, you don't look for it." He caught her eye. "Do you understand me?"

V nodded. Her eyes were glued to his face now, clearly waiting to see what would come next.

"Last thing is that you never pull that shit you pulled this morning." Chibs wasn't sure about this part, but was following his instincts on how to deal with what had happened between them, since trying to talk to her about it had failed spectacularly. "Whatever shit you got goin' on in your head, I can take it. But you gotta tell me what the fuck is happening. And you never fuckin' tell me to leave." He figured, as he said it, that chances were about 50/50 that she would kick his presumptuous ass out as soon as he let go of her hands. Still, he had to say something.

"That all?" Her voice was very small.

"For now." He smiled.

"Kiss me again." It was a request rather than an order. He complied, meeting her lips with his again while still holding her hands above her head. She seemed calmer now than she had when he'd come in the door. Slowly, keeping his hands on her, he steered her towards her bedroom. Given his body still aching from last night's fight, there was no way he wanted to do this on the floor.

Things started out remarkably gently. As he had been the night before, Chibs was struck with the need to run his hands over every inch of V's skin, still reacquainting himself with her body. She let him, lying back on the bed with her eyes closed, enjoying the attention. The room was so quiet that it startled her slightly when he spoke. "Where did these come from?"

He was looking at her legs. He recognized the pattern of bruises on her shins as being from kicking, but above them, on her thighs, were several newer, darker marks. He was nearly certain they hadn't been there the night before.

V shrugged. "Must have run into something."

Chibs scowled. The bruises were clearly from being hit with something. "I know you're lying."

V shrugged again. "So what?" Her face had hardened.

He shook his head, looking at the bruises again. "You do this yourself?" He knew even before he asked that she had.

V reached up towards him, slipping her hands under his cut and pulling him down to her. "Let it go," she whispered, moving her lips to his face.

Deciding it wasn't worth a scene, at least not right now, Chibs responded by lying on top of her, kissing her hard and feeling her begin to grind her body against his. He was soon stopped, though, feeling her hands pull off his cut and move to his shoulder holster. He sat up.

V was staring at his holster. Her eyes were wide. For a moment, Chibs thought he was in for a repeat of the scene from that morning, only this time with his own gun pointed at his head. Soon, though, he realized this was another kind of expression. She seemed…wanting. She looked back and forth between him and the holster. Had she been anyone else, Chibs may not have understood what she was asking for. But she wasn't anybody else.

He fought to keep his face still while he considered. In truth, he was aroused by the idea, but there was something else, too, something niggling at his brain telling him it was a bad move. As was usually the case with Chibs, it took only a moment for him to decided to ignore the nagging voice. After all, it was her idea.

V held her breath as she watched Chibs take the gun from the holster. He ejected the clip, then pulled back the chamber and knocked out the bullet into his hand. With the gun empty, he pointed it and the floor and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the hammer vibrated V's skin. He looked up from the gun to her. "Take your panties off."

V did as she was told, her eyes never leaving the gun. Chibs couldn't read the expression on her face—it didn't look like fear, but he wasn't sure it was arousal, either. Her jaw was set in a way that seemed determined, but her eyes were still wide and longing. "You sure?" he asked, slipping his free hand between her legs. He found her wet, and she exhaled with a hiss as he slid a finger inside her.

"Yes." She was breathing hard. "Please."

The gun's barrel was only a few inches long, but still Chibs took his time pushing it inside her, then drawing it out again. Watching what he was doing, his hand on the grip, the barrel moving in and out of her, was mesmerizing; it took a while for him to look up at her face. Her eyes were closed in what seemed more like concentration than ecstasy. For a moment, he was confused, then he recognized her expression—she was trying not to come.

Chibs grinned. Though he wasn't sure why V was concentrating so hard on remaining in control, it felt like a challenge. Whatever new game this was, he was going to win. He increased the pace of the gun, knowing she preferred it faster, harder, more intense. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, still covered by the thin cotton a-shirt. He shoved his free hand under the shirt, twisting first one nipple piercing and then the other between his fingers and thumb. She moaned, her hips beginning to rise from the mattress to meet the gun as he pumped it in and out of her.

Her face was still tense, her teeth over her bottom lip, biting so hard she had to be close to drawing blood. Where her shirt was pulled up, Chibs could see the muscles around the scar on her stomach tensing. He knew she was close. He increased the power behind the gun barrel again, jamming it into her with force now. She was trembling. "Open your legs wider," he commanded.

V opened her legs automatically, her back arching, her hips tilted. Grinning, Chibs continued to fuck her with the gun, but leaned his body over hers. He licked his dry lips, then lowered his mouth between her legs, pulling her clitoris between his lips while the gun continued to move in and out. It only took a second. As she came, her hips rose further. He pulled the gun out and away from her, instead burying his face in her. Though her thighs closed around his ears, he could still hear her scream.


	23. Chapter 23

Chibs felt as thought he'd only just gone to sleep when he awoke. It took a minute to figure out why he was awake, but then he realized it was the sound. It wasn't loud, just a muffled, rhythmic noise. He felt a chill go up his spine. Though he knew she was gone before he even reached for her, he felt the other side of the bed for V. The sheets were cool to his touch.

As quietly as possible, Chibs rose and pulled his jeans from the floor. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand; he would only later realize the clip was still missing. There were no full thoughts in his head, just an internal screaming—someone was hurting V, and he had to stop them.

If he hadn't been so relieved, and then so pissed, Chibs would have felt very foolish for the pace at which his heart was beating as he walked into the living room. He had no idea what to expect, but what he saw was the last possibility he'd have come up with. V was in the middle of the floor, again dressed in her underwear and tank top, doing pushups. The rhythmic sound he'd head was the floorboard creaking underneath her.

Before he spoke, Chibs took a long look at V. She was dripping sweat and her shoulders were shaking. She had to have been at it for a while. Her eyes were downcast and she was clearly concentrating. "What the fuck are you doing?"

If he startled V, she didn't show it. She was out of breath when she replied. "Pushups." She pushed up into a sitting position.

"It is," Chibs pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, "5 o'clock in the goddamn morning. Why the hell are you doing pushups?"

V shrugged. "Gotta work on this arm," she said. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Chibs thought suddenly of the night he'd found her in the ring, blindly kicking the bag. He crossed the room and pulled her face towards him, so he could see her eyes clearly. "Are you high?"

V shook her chin from his grasp and scowled. "No."

Chibs peered at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark-rimmed, but her pupils looked normal. He remembered thinking of how young she looked only hours before. She looked older now, and tired. "Are you lying?"

She shook her head and sighed. "I'm not high. I just…I'm not sleepin' much."

Suddenly feeling all of the last few days' soreness in his body, Chibs sunk down to the floor and sat next to her. As he tried to figure out what to say, she surprised him by moving towards him, her eyes imploring. It was, he realized, much the same look she'd had earlier, but it was now focused not on his gun holster, but on him. She swallowed, her face tensing for a moment. "I'm scared." The words were small, but they filled the room.

Instinctively, he held his arms out to her and she moved into them. He pulled her into his chest. "Of what?" he asked.

She sighed again. "Everything. Not being able to fight again. Disappointing the Club. Myself. You."

He didn't respond, just pulled her closer to his chest. It was odd, he thought, how it seemed the only times she really opened up came after violence. It was as if the hurt bought her some reprieve from acting tough. They sat for what seemed like a long time, her breathing returning to normal against his chest.

Now that his adrenaline had waned, Chibs' eyes felt heavy again. "You sleep at all?" he murmured.

"An hour, maybe."

He stood, pulling her up with him. "Come back to bed with me."

She tried to pull away. "I'm all gross now." She was actually beginning to shiver as the sweat cooled on her skin.

He snorted. "Like I fuckin' care. Come on."

-0-

V's vulnerability had disappeared by the time the sun rose, and Chibs saw no hint of it over the next few days. He saw little of V at all, as she'd resumed avoiding him. She showed up to the ring every afternoon and worked her ass off, but said almost nothing. She was increasingly tense, too, smoking more than ever, her nails all bitten down. Irritating as he found it, Chibs held back, waiting for her to come to him.

After a few days, Chibs told V about Jax's suspicion that Clay was setting her up to lose the fight. She seemed only mildly surprised at the idea and not particularly bothered by it. She figured, rightly, he thought, that whether or not Clay intended for her to lose would have nothing to do with whether or not she actually lost.

When Jax asked Chibs if he'd warned V about Clay's possible trap, and Chibs recounted her lack of concern, Jax couldn't help but take matters into his own hands. Knowing he wouldn't catch her in the ring without anyone else around, he found her in the office, two days before the fight. He was surprised how his heart jumped, coming into the little room and looking at her, staring into space and clearly lost in thought. He knew he'd done the right thing in letting her go, that it was only saving further heartache down the road, but seeing her still struck something in him.

His first words were stuttered, but he regained his cool quickly. V didn't seem to notice, or even be paying that much attention to what he was saying. When he'd finished explaining what he thought was going on, she lifted her eyes to his almost lazily. "So?"

"So? So you're gonna get hurt! And you don't owe a losing fight to the Clay, or to the Club."

"I want to fight, Jax. You know that."

"You don't want to lose."

"No, but if I lose, that's on me. Whether Clay wants me to win or lose, there's nobody in the ring but me."

Jax shook his head. "You aren't gettin' it. If Clay wants you to lose, the fight won't be fair."

"What can he do, besides find someone he thinks can beat me?" V looked at Jax harder now. "This isn't about Clay. It's about you not thinkin' I can win."

Jax glared. Before he could answer, V continued. "Truth is, you're probably right. With this arm the way it is, I don't think I could win even a fair fight. But that doesn't matter. If I can't win, then I'll lose. I'm still gonna fight."

Jax's frustration grew. "You're so goddamn stubborn," he muttered. "What good comes from takin' a fight you don't think you can win? You'll get hurt, the Club will lose money, and Clay will have a reason to be on your ass."

"Clay won't let the Club lose too much money. The rest I can handle." The dismissal in V's voice was obvious. She was finished talking about the subject.

For the millionth time since he'd met her, Jax wondered what had made V so unlike any other woman he'd known. He'd never been so easily dismissed by a woman. It pissed him off every time, but it did something else, too. It made her intriguing.

Seeing her wasn't leaving, V sighed and looked up at Jax. "Look," she said, the tone of her voice softening, "I appreciate your concern. I know you don't want to see me get hurt, and I…I like that. But I need to do this, and I know what I'm doing." She smiled. "Besides, do you really think Clay is gonna get me killed?"

Though he tried not to, Jax saw Donna behind his eyelids. How could V be so flip? Only a few months ago she'd nearly been beaten to death. He remembered how she'd looked in that hospital bed. How could she have already forgotten?

"Jax, you're wasting your time. I'm gonna do this no matter what you say." There was no malice in her words, she was simply telling him how things were.

He ruefully shook his head again. "I know." He smiled at her in spite of himself, then headed for the door. "Be careful, OK?" _I don't want to lose you again._

-0-

It took another day before Jax was able to get Clay alone. When he did, he didn't waste any time. "This fight, for V, you really think she's ready?"

"All the time she's been spendin' training, she should be." Clay's look was distrustful. He knew this conversation was heading somewhere he didn't want it to go.

Jax deftly switched tactics. "You still afraid she's gonna tell Mom about Oregon every time she gets pissed off?"

Clay shook his head. "Nah. Her word is good." He realized as he said it that he believed it—no matter how much V didn't like him, she'd said she wouldn't tell Gemma and she wouldn't.

"What is it, then?" Jax stared at his stepfather. "What's the angle on sending her in to a fight she can't win?"

"Who says she can't win?" Clay felt irritation surge through him. "Hasn't had any trouble with those girls before."

"This is gonna be someone different, isn't it? And you know about it." When Jax paused and Clay didn't answer, he continued. "Why do you want her to lose?"

Clay scowled. "What makes you think I want her to lose?"

"Call it off." Jax's voice was cold. "She may not be my Old Lady, but she's…she's important to me. I'm not gonna let you get her hurt just to prove you can."

Clay's ringed hand slammed against the table. "You don't give me orders." His glare was steely. "You keep forgetting, but this is my Club." He smirked. "V wants out of this fight, she's gonna have to bail on it herself." Clay continued to smirk as he watched Jax storm out of the room. As usual, his stepson was making things more personal than they needed to be. Setting this fight up for V wasn't about teaching her any kind of lesson. It was all about money. She'd never throw a fight on purpose, so he had to set up one she couldn't win.


	24. Chapter 24

"You ready? Just about go time." Chibs looked at V closely. He'd been surprised when she'd called and asked for a ride to the fight—she hadn't said why she didn't want to drive herself and he hadn't asked, just swung by and picked her up. Since they'd been there, she'd been quiet, though hadn't seemed so tense as she had for the past few days. She looked tired still, and her expression seemed far away.

"Yeah, I'm good." She'd seemed to be paying so little attention as he'd wrapped her hands, he was surprised at her quick response. She smiled warily at him. "Got any last minute coaching for me?"

He wished he had some magic piece of advice to give her. He was worried. Clay had instructed the Sons to place only small bets on her when they made their rounds of the room tonight, so he was sure now that Jax had been right and she was being set up to lose. The real money had to be changing hands somewhere else. Whomever V was going to face in the ring, Clay felt confident in betting on her.

Chibs picked up V's taped left hand from her lap and brought it to his lips. When he met her eyes, they were soft, not angry at the gesture. "Whatever happens," he said quietly, "I'm right here."

She smiled again. "Thank you."

-0-

"You sure she won't surprise us?" Gemma didn't typically like boxing much, but she'd come tonight, she said, for lack of anything better to do. "That girl is a tough cookie."

Clay shook his head. "She's done." Though Chibs, even when pressed, wouldn't give a straight answer as to V's prospects as a boxer, Half-Sack had told him that she wasn't regaining her strength. After observing her training, Tig had agreed. They'd better be right.

Gemma looked concerned, but didn't say anything else. V's injuries at the hands of her Russian kidnappers were still a bit too fresh for her to forget, and she didn't like the idea of V being hurt again, but Clay knew what he was doing. _Besides,_ Gemma thought, _she likes to get beat up, right?_ Still, there was a nagging in the back of her head.

As if he could read his wife's mind, Clay continued. "She's gonna be fine. She can take a few hits. This was gonna be her last fight either way. In the end she'll be glad to make some money for the Club." _If I ever could have counted on the stubborn bitch to just go down, I wouldn't have to do it this way,_ he thought. _It's her own damn fault._

-0-

The first two rounds of the fight seemed longer than the allotted time. Though V held her own as best she could, her balance was off, still not corrected for her much-weakened arm. Without a stable base, her kicks weren't landing often, and weren't as powerful as they could be when they did hit their target. Defensively, she was able to protect herself, for the most part, but it was taking a lot of effort. Her opponent, a large woman with tight cornrows and a wicked uppercut, seemed content to wear her down.

Chibs barely heard his own words as he spoke to V between the second and third rounds. He knew they must be trite—something about concentrating on her footwork and using her left to block more so she could go on offense with her right. It didn't matter what he said. V was doing the best she could, and it wasn't going to be enough. Before V put her mouth guard in, she turned to face him. Her face was flushed and sweaty, but there were no major bruises yet. "It's OK," she said. "I know I'm going to lose."

For a moment, Chibs considered saying something positive and supportive, as fake as it might be. Before he could come up with anything, though, he remembered who he was talking to and twisted his face into a sneer. "Just because you're gonna lose doesn't mean you have to play defense like a pussy," he said. "Unless you're too afraid to get hit, let's see a goddamn fight." V stood, and as she moved towards the center of the ring to begin the next round, she smiled.

As the third round progressed, Chibs began to regret his words. V had opened up her body and dropped her defensive posture, and it wasn't working out well. He could see she was tired, her left arm hanging almost completely useless. She was swinging with her right, and had connected a couple of times, but mostly, she was focusing on staying upright. Twice, she'd been trapped against the ropes, barely able to protect her face, her chest serving as a punching bag. She'd also been caught under the chin and twice on the right side of her face, both already swelling. Finally, she'd hit the ground once, but gotten back on her feet quickly.

V sat heavily on the corner stool after the third round whistle was blown. Chibs watched her remove her mouth guard and rinse her mouth out, then towel off her face. He wasn't sure what to say. He wished she'd just stay down, let this fight end, but knew there was no good way to suggest that to her. Finally, V turned to him. "Do you see a weak spot?" she asked. "Cuz I got fuckin' nothin'."

He wanted to kiss her, split lip or not. _You're an amazing woman,_ he thought. "No, princess," he said. "She's got you. You just gotta get through the last round."

V nodded, moving her jaw around experimentally. Chibs reached out and ran his fingers down both sides of her face, making sure her jaw wasn't dislocated. Something about the gesture struck V, and between it and the pain, she felt tears spring up in her eyes. _He can just be so fuckin' nice_, she thought. Impatiently, she blinked the tears away and pushed the thought from her mind. It was time to finish this goddamn fight.

The final round was the worst one. V was exhausted, clearly not ready to take on a whole fight, and had trouble even defending herself. By the time the final whistle sounded, both of her eyes were black, one nearly swollen shut, her ears were ringing, and she had narrowly escaped a broken nose, moving slightly at the last second and taking a hard cross to the cheekbone. Each inhalation reminded her of the bruises forming along her ribcage. Her left shoulder ached more than it had in weeks. Everything hurt.

Watching the fourth round, Chibs and Jax would have been surprised to know how similar their thoughts were. Both of them silently wished V would just stay down before she got hurt any worse. Both of them were increasingly furious at Clay for putting her in this position. Both of their stomachs hurt when they looked at her bruised and bloody face. Both of them wished they could take the pain for her. Jax turned to Clay, who sat near him, and glared. "Are you satisfied now?"

"She just made the Club a lot of cash," Clay responded. "I'd say I'm good."

Knowing things would only get out of hand if he didn't, Jax walked away. He made his way towards the ring almost instinctively, not really thinking about whether it would be welcome or not, but knowing he needed to check on V. As he got closer, he saw that she was sitting on the corner stool again, facing away from the crowd, her shoulders slumped. Chibs was standing in front of her, speaking, his face calm. Before Jax could get close enough to hear what he was saying, he saw Chibs reach down and take V's battered face in his hands, then stoop to kiss her forehead. Jax thought of the night he and Gemma had taken V to St. Thomas, of how much smaller she'd looked in the hospital bed. In his mind, he saw Happy helping her into the Clubhouse. Less than six months had passed since that night, and already she was bloody again. Once again, he'd done nothing to stop it, and nothing to save her. Disgusted with himself and the whole situation, Jax turned on his heel and headed towards his bike.

-0-

"You gonna be OK to ride? Gemma's got her car." Chibs looked concerned. Though V had mopped most of the blood off her face in the ladies room, she still looked pretty rough, and her left arm was still hanging uselessly.

"I'm OK," she said. "I…I don't want to go to the Clubhouse. I don't want to see anybody else tonight."

Chibs nodded. "I'll take you home."

She looked at him. "Will you stay with me?"

"Aye."


	25. Chapter 25

Chibs paced nervously between V's living room and kitchen. The shower had been running a long time. He felt worthless, as if he should be doing something to help her, but he had no idea what that would be. He sat for a minute, trying to remember the last time he'd been where V was. He knew she must hurt, and that she was probably humiliated. He was surprised, honestly, that she'd asked him to stay at all. Unable to be still, he rose again, stalking down the short hall towards the bathroom door, then cursing, turning, and going into the bedroom.

Looking around the bedroom, Chibs couldn't help but smile. _What a fucking slob._ The sheet was only halfway on the mattress, the floor covered with clothes. Chibs picked an old iPod up off the floor, hooked to a questionable looking speaker. It looked vaguely familiar. Chibs turned it over in his hand, trying to remember where he'd seen it before, and saw the reaper sticker on the back. Had to have belonged to Juice. Chibs snorted, wondering if V had won it off him or stolen it. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began scrolling through the playlist. He smiled when he saw Black Flag and The Pogues, then shook his head at Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash. Definitely V's choices, not Juice's. He clicked over to see what V had actually been listening to most recently, then turned the speaker on, laughing softly. _There's a girl in there after all._

_Baby, see how I been living/Velvet curtains on the windows/to keep the bright and unforgiving/light from shining through._

The singer's voice was rough, massaging each word. It sounded like dust and blood and sweat and sex and pain. Chick music or not, Chibs could hear V in it.

_Traced your scent through the gloom/'Til I found these purple flowers/I was spent/ I was soon smelling you for hours_

Chibs laid back on the bed, listening to the woman's voice, to the story she was telling. As he listened, he heard the shower spray stop and V step out.

_Got in my Mercury and drove out west/Pedal to the metal and my luck to the test/Baby sweet baby_

V stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her. She moved carefully, slowly. Chibs stood up and stepped toward her. He didn't say anything, just reached out and removed the towel, then looked to see how bad the damage was. From the scratchy speaker, the woman's voice continued to wail.

_I been tryin' to enjoy all the fruits of my labor/I've been cryin' for you boy, but truth is my savior._

V looked worse than Chibs had hoped. He ran his thumb down her side, watching her face to see where she winced. Midway down, she drew her breath in sharply. "These ribs broken?" he asked.

V shook her head. "I don't think so."

Chibs continued his examination. Her chest was badly bruised, already dark black-purple in spots. Her face looked terrible, with both eyes and her lower lip swollen and her whole right cheek discolored. She'd cleaned herself up as best she could, but it hadn't helped much.

_Baby, sweet baby, if it's all the same/Take the glory any day over the fame/Baby, sweet baby._

"You got any more pain pills stashed, now would probably be a good time to break 'em out," Chibs said. He met V's eyes. She was thankful to him for not telling her she didn't look that bad. She'd seen herself in the mirror.

V shook her head. "Got rid of that shit after you threw your little tantrum about it."

Chibs smiled. "You want a drink, then?"

"God, yes."

"I'll get it."

V sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. She'd been glad, when she finally turned off the shower, to hear that Chibs was still here. Though she was a bit embarrassed to face him looking like this, it beat the hell out of being alone. She pushed the thought back whenever it crept into her mind, but the similarity between how she felt right now and how she'd felt in the days after her kidnapping by the Russians plagued V. It didn't seem to matter what she did, she always seemed to end up in the same place.

When Chibs came back, he was carrying not the whiskey bottle from V's counter or cold beers from her fridge, but the nearly full tequila bottle he'd spotted on top of the fridge. She smiled. Tonight was a good night for that. She'd like to be so drunk she couldn't feel any of this anymore.

Realizing she was still naked, V reached towards the first t-shirt she saw. Before she could pick it up, Chibs caught her hand. He shook his head. "Stay like that," he said. "You got ice in your freezer?"

V nodded, pulling her hand back from the shirt and accepting the tequila bottle. Chibs watched as she drank straight from it without a wince, then turned and went back to the kitchen.

"Lay down." V thought about arguing, telling him she didn't need a nursemaid, but she was just too tired. She did as he said, taking another long drink from the tequila bottle before he laid back on the bed. Chibs had cracked all the ice he could find into an a-shirt he found on the back of a chair. He held this makeshift ice pack to the worst part of V's face.

"I can do that," she said, reaching for the ice pack. "I'm not dying,"

Chibs pushed her hand away gently and met her eyes again. "I know how bad you hurt," he said. "Don't try to bullshit me. Let me take care of you. Just tonight. Tomorrow, you can go back to being a tough bitch."

In spite of herself, V smiled. As the iPod moved to the next track, she closed her eyes.

For several minutes, Chibs held the ice pack to V's face and ran his eyes over her body. The bruises didn't scare him. He knew V had lived through a hell of a lot worse. His real fear was for whatever was going beyond behind her eyelids. He tried to suss it out, watching her face, but her expression remained neutral. She surprised him when she opened her eyes suddenly. "I'm not going to fight again, am I?"

He frowned. It was a question he'd expected, but not so soon. Usually, when you had your ass beaten as badly as V had that night, it took a day or two to even consider the longer-term implications. "I don't know," he said.

She shook her head. "Don't lie. You know I'm done."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, princess. I think you probably are."

She didn't say anything more. He'd half-expected her to argue, to insist that this was just one fight, and that she was still getting stronger. Looking again at her battered body, though, he could see why she wouldn't have the energy. She'd done the best she could tonight, and it just wasn't enough.

V sat up suddenly, her face inches from Chibs'. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, with no tongue, her swollen lips barely grazing his. "Thank you," she whispered before pulling away and taking another long drink from the tequila bottle.

He nodded. He wasn't sure what, exactly, she was thanking him for, but his heart belonged to her tonight. All of the complicating factors of their months of history had faded into the background. All he could see was a strong, gorgeous woman in pain. There was nothing he wouldn't do to help her.

She laid back again, but pushed the ice pack away. Looking in her eyes, he knew what she wanted instead, and he smiled. He was extraordinarily careful, leaning over her, kissing her lips again, then running his tongue over each nipple in turn. He put no weight on her and avoided the places where her skin was bruised, using only the lightest touch of his fingers and lips. He was in no hurry. For a long time, he simply moved back and forth between her breasts. As he listened, her breathing deepened, then changed to small, nearly inaudible moans. Her hands were flat against the mattress, as if to keep herself steady, and he noticed for the hundredth time the criss-cross of scars decorating her knuckles. He moved away from her chest and brought each hand in turn to his lips, kissing the insides of her palms, then running his tongue over the worst of the scars. When he looked up, her eyes were closed, her head tipped slightly back against the pillow.

When he rose from the bed to take off his clothes, she opened her eyes and watched him. There was nothing guarded or judgmental in her face, just open curiosity and longing. It seemed almost innocent, as if was all something she'd never seen before. The effect on him was extraordinary, and by the time he had stripped out of everything, it was all he could do to keep from pouncing on her. Instead, he sat on his knees between her legs, keeping his weight completely off her, and pushed slowly inside.

V felt the last bit of the fight's tension slip away as Chibs rocked slowly inside her. When she'd asked him to stay, this was not the scene she was envisioning. The only thing she wanted, when standing under the hot shower, sobbing, hurting, was for him to make her hurt worse. She'd lost, she thought, and she should be punished. When she'd come out to find him looking at her with concern and sympathy, though, she'd felt not trapped by it, but freed. It felt unnatural to let him be so nice to her, but it also felt surprisingly good.

Later, V laid quietly on her side, Chibs smoking next to her. She wasn't asleep, but felt as if she might be soon. Her head buzzed slightly from the tequila, but she wasn't drunk. She still hurt all over. There was something else, too, though—a safe, relaxed feeling she never would have expected to come out of this night. Though she knew it wouldn't last, she let it cover her like a blanket.

Chibs reached out and began to trace the tattoo on V's back, a piece he'd looked at many times but never asked about before. "This is different than the rest of your tats," he said. "When did you get it?"

V closed her eyes for a moment against the assault of the memory. "Long time ago. Before the other ones."

Though he sensed she didn't want to talk about it further, Chibs' curiosity was piqued. "It's intense. Did it take a long time?"

V smiled slightly. "Months. Little tiny bit at a time." She realized, as she spoke, that she didn't see any compelling reason not to continue. "The artist worked on it mostly in times just like this, actually. In bed, after sex. Just made it up a piece at a time."

Chibs wasn't surprised. The scene depicted in the tat, of some sort of romantic other world, full of twisting paths and streams, was unlike anything he could imagine V picking out. It made sense that it was someone else's vision, for which V was the canvas. "He did a great job. What is it supposed to be?"

"It was her idea of paradise. Some place where we'd never be alone, never be in pain."

"Her?"

"Yeah."

"Who was she?"

The memory assaulted again, but V continued. Had Chibs been able to see her turned-away face, he'd have been sorry he asked. "Her name was Maya. I was 15 when I met her. Reform school."

Chibs chuckled. "Reform school teenage lesbian? You sure you aren't making this up?"

V laughed, too. "It is a little porn-y, isn't it? No. We were together, off and on, for about four years." She swallowed. "She taught me to kick box."

"What happened?"

"She died." V didn't elaborate, and her voice made it clear now that it would be better for Chibs not to ask. Instead, he laid down next to her, carefully wrapping his arm around her, being sure not to put pressure on her bruised chest and ribs. He wished he could think of something to say to remove the sadness that had seeped back into the room.


	26. Chapter 26

Chibs wasn't sure why he left before V woke up. Something about seeing her unconscious, battered face in the morning light streaming through the uncovered window was too much for him to take. She was becoming too real, too much his, and the closer he got to her, the more it hurt. Before he knew it, he was out the door and into the cool air. He rode around a long time before he returned to the Clubhouse, not proud of himself, but not able to turn around and go back to her, either.

The minute he walked through the Clubhouse door, Chibs knew there was something going on. The main room was full of Club members, all of them tensed. Jax and Clay were glaring at each other. As soon as he entered, Jax turned to face him. "Were you with V?"

Chibs didn't like the question, knowing there wasn't a good answer for it, and cautious of the clear anger on Jax's face. Still, lying would do him no good. "Yeah."

"How is she?"

Chibs nodded, figuring out what the argument Jax and Clay must have been having had been about. "Pretty rough," he said. "But mostly just bruised up. She's gonna feel like shit when she wakes up, but she'll heal."

"You sure? She took a hell of a beating." Juice look concerned.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Chibs looked towards Clay. "She was expecting it. She did OK."

"See?" Clay said to Jax, his voice triumphant. "I told you she'd be fine."

Chibs made it a practice never to disagree with Clay. It made life in the Club a hell of a lot easier, and he didn't have any illusions about being as smart as the president. Still, Clay's tone brought the picture of V's bruised face to the front of his mind, and he felt himself getting angry. "She's not fine," he said, tersely. "She's hurtin'. She shouldn't have had to take a beating like that, not so soon after…" he trailed off, realizing he was speaking out of turn.

Clay turned his smirk toward Chibs. "Anything in the rules of that fight say she had to keep at it?" he asked. "She could have stayed down anytime."

Chibs didn't respond.

"There's one thing that bitch knows how to do, it's get hit," Tig interjected. "She's a fuckin' pro." He grinned. "Besides, way I hear it, she likes it."

Clay chuckled. "Whether she liked it or not, she made us a lot of money."

"That's what this Club is now?" Jax asked, seething. "Gettin' women beat up for profit? Jesus. We should be protecting her, and instead you send her to a goddamn slaughter?"

Clay turned on his stepson again, his eyes cold. "V your Old Lady?" he asked.

Jax looked confused. "No."

Clay nodded towards Chibs. "She your Old Lady?"

"No."

"She's not family. She don't belong to anybody in this Club. She's just hangin' around. She's gotta earn her keep around here just like everybody else. Somebody puts his crow on that gash, she's his problem, but until then, she does what I tell her to do." Clay didn't wait for further argument, just stomped out of the room.

"Goddammit," Chibs muttered. He wasn't sure what he would have expected to go differently, but he didn't like the conversation's outcome. He wished he'd stayed in V's bed.

"She really OK?" Half-Sack had stayed quiet during the conversation, which was wise for a Prospect. He was worried about V, though. He'd never been beaten so badly as she had been the night before, and had no idea how she would take it.

"Yeah, Prospect," Chibs sighed. "She'll be fine." He wondered, even as he said it, how true it was. He knew that V's bruises would heal, just like they always had before, and he'd been amazed and hopeful at how easily she'd let him take care of her last night. It had felt bizarrely like trust. When she woke up this morning, though, in pain and alone, it was anybody's guess how she'd respond. His head filled with the same overwhelmed feeling it had when he'd first woken up, and he wanted nothing so badly as to just get on his bike and go as far away from all of this, and from her, as he could.

-0-

Gemma watched from the office as the boys trickled out of the Clubhouse. Clay had come first, obviously hot about something, stomping towards the garage. A few moments later Jax and Opie came out together, Ope's face looking concerned and Jax scowling. She shook her head. Like Clay and Jax didn't have enough on which they didn't see eye-to-eye without fighting about V. As she had so often since the day she met V in the diner, Gemma wished she'd never hired her. Had she been different then? Gemma had never expected her to be this much trouble, or to bring this much pain and chaos with her.

When the phone rang, Gemma was still at the office window, watching the scene playing out in the parking lot. Chibs had strode out and he and Jax seemed to be having words, though neither of them looked out of control. Again, it had to be V. She shook her head as she went to pick up the receiver. "Teller-Morrow."

"Gemma?" It took only a second for Gemma to recognize Wayne Unser's voice.

"Hey, Wayne." Her brow furrowed. Unser calling was rarely a good thing, but if it was serious, he knew better than to use the garage line.

"Clay asked me to call," Unser said. "He was…checkin' in on a mutual friend. Darby's awake and talkin'." Unser chuckled. "Must want to bring him some flowers or something."

"Yeah, must be that." Gemma drawled. "I'll let him know."

When Clay came into the office only a few minutes later, Gemma fixed him with a hard stare. "This gonna blow up?"

"What?" Clay looked annoyed.

"This shit with V. I don't like it. They like her. They're protective of her. Doesn't look good for you to get her hurt."

Clay's scowl deepened. "She's fine."

Gemma shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Everything that's happened to her, nobody wants to see her bleed."

"Like I don't have enough shit without this from you." Clay's patience was clearly thin.

Gemma didn't back down. "Should have gotten rid of her months ago," she mused. "Two brothers after the same woman." She gave Clay a long look. "We know how bad that can go."

"This. Ain't. That." Clay glowered now, stepping closer to Gemma to make sure his point was clear. "V is just pussy. She'll shove on before long."

She shook her head. "She's got nowhere to go. She's reckless, but she's not stupid. She'll stay." Gemma had seen Jax watch V with the night before, seen him flinch when she got hit. She'd also noticed Chibs, kneeled in front of her after the fight was over, her face in his hands. "And she's not just pussy to them. She's under both their skin."

"So just what do you suggest?" Clay sneered at his wife, clearly not expecting a response. "Gettin' her ass handed to her last night had to have knocked that crazy bitch down a few pegs. I don't think she's gonna cause any more trouble." He didn't wait for her response for stomping out of the office.

Gemma sat down with a sigh. She knew Clay was underestimating the damage V could cause. Both Jax and Chibs had a tendency to let women cloud their judgment. Jax had pined for Tara for a decade, all the while fucking every woman who came into his path. And Chibs…Gemma's mind wandered. Chibs had made sacrifices for Fiona beyond what she'd ever seen from any other man. V was not going to just disappear.


	27. Chapter 27

V's initial intention was to drive as far out of Charming as she could manage, find a bar, and drink until she couldn't feel anything. However, as she was looking around for clean clothes, then covering the worst of her battered face with makeup, she kept pulling on the previous night's tequila bottle. By the time her face was covered to her satisfaction, the bottle was nearly empty and she knew there was no way she was going to make it to Lodi, much less Oakland or farther. Still, she knew she couldn't handle the night alone in her house, and facing the clubhouse was out of the question, so she pointed the Charger down the street.

As far as bars go, Charming didn't offer a lot of choices. The most accessible was the Dirty Dog, but even V wasn't self-destructive enough to walk into the Nords' bar alone, especially with Darby still in the hospital. The other nearby choice was the honky tonk favored by the local logger and redneck crowd. Though she hadn't been there since her first night in Charming, V had a vague memory of a jukebox full of classic country. Perfect for how she was feeling tonight.

V's first two drinks went down fast. She couldn't get Maya out of her head. She knew what Maya would say about her being here, about how she'd scanned the room as soon as she sat down, looking for the most likely redneck to take her home. _Why all these men, V? All these fucking men. All they do is cause pain._ V could picture her still, the way her slim fingers wrapped around the tattoo needle, or her cigarette. She could almost hear her voice, soft and lilting when she wanted something, and see the way she'd tilt her head. _Baby, you don't have to do this. You don't have to be here. Just come home with me._ But things had changed a lot since Maya had been gone.

Three drinks in, Maya was starting to fade from V's mind. She saw Chibs instead, his concerned face. She felt his fingers on her skin and heard his brogue in her ear, telling her she was going to be OK. And then, over and over again, she woke up by herself. In pain, scared, and alone. She shook her head. _No good there._ "Leave the bottle," she told the bartender.

"You sure honey?" The woman behind the bar had seen better days. Her peroxide hair was thinning, her lipstick not all contained within the tired lines of her lips. She looked sympathetic, though. The makeup didn't fully cover what had happened to V's face, and the bartender likely thought she knew just why the poor, sad-eyed girl was here.

"Yeah." V tried to smile, felt the newly covered cut on her lip crack when she did. The bartender looked skeptical, but left the bottle.

V had been it the bar about an hour when someone finally approached her. She turned to face him and smiled, careful to keep her lips from overstretching. Tall, broad-shouldered, unshaven and shaggy haired—he was cute. When V saw that he was no older than the Prospect, she nearly laughed aloud.

"Hey," the young man smiled. He motioned towards the bottle. "That's an awful lot for a girl to be drinkin' by herself."

V nodded. "True. You'd better get a glass."

-0-

Happy was watching Jax and Chibs play pool, waiting to take on the winner, when his cell rang. As he listened, his face looked puzzled. "Yeah, she's my mother…no, she hasn't driven in years…oh, OK…no, not stolen…I'll deal with it. Yeah."

"What's up bro?" Jax asked.

"Oh, nothin'." Happy paused a moment. "Just some bullshit with my mom."

"She OK?" Chibs put his cue down on the side of the pool table, his expression concerned.

"Yeah. Gotta go take care of it, though." He didn't offer any more explanation, just headed towards his bike.

Hap wasn't sure what made him lie to Jax and Chibs. The call had been to let him know that a car registered to his mother had been seen driving on the wrong side of the street in Charming, with no lights on, and to make sure it hadn't been stolen. _Fucking V._ He hadn't been in town the night before, but had heard about the fight. God knows what was into her tonight. Had he told them about the call, Happy knew both Jax and Chibs would have been on their way out to find her. Maybe he should have told them. But he couldn't get her face out of his mind, insisting on killing those Russians by her own hand. She never wanted to be taken care of. So he went to find her himself.

-0-

Had V not already been so drunk and so desperate, she would have been amused at the bullshit her new young friend was attempting to feed her. His name, he said, was Andy, though V hadn't made any attempt to extract it. He seemed local enough to know his way around the bar, but not enough to associate V with SAMCRO. Perfect. He was quite chatty. V listened, occasionally gave a one or two word answer to a question, and drank steadily.

Finally, growing tired of the game, V turned towards him and met his eyes. "Look," she said, "it's not that I don't find the way you're trying to talk me into bed really cute, because it's adorable, but you're wasting your breath. You're exactly what I came here for. We can leave now, if you'd like."

Andy blinked rapidly, surprised. He'd realized, as soon as he sat down next to V and started talking, that she wasn't exactly what she'd looked like from across the room, but this was certainly a new turn of events. Before he could figure out how to respond, she continued. "Thing of it is," she said, lowering her voice intentionally to a huskier pitch, "there's somethin' else I came here for, too. And I haven't found that yet. But I bet you can help me…" She scanned the room quickly, then looked again at Andy. "You know anybody here who's holding?"

It took only another few minutes for V to get what she was after. It helped that she wasn't picky. She'd never really liked crystal meth, but it would do in a pinch. After she'd procured her bag, Andy followed her into the grimy bathroom. His chatter ceased as he watched her stick a bar straw into the baggie and snort. It wasn't elegant, just effective.

Holding her finger under her nostril, V held the baggie out and nodded towards Andy. "You want?"

Andy shook his head. V could see in his face that he was wondering if he was getting into something he shouldn't. Feeling the drugs start to swim in her brain, she smiled. "It's OK, baby," she said. "Nobody's gonna get hurt."

-0-

It didn't take Happy that long to find the Charger—the benefit of a town the size of Charming. It was taking up two spaces in the bar's parking lot, nearly horizontal. A quick look didn't turn up any damage, though. Hap sighed and walked towards the bar.

After he looked around the smoky room and didn't see V, Happy caught the bartender's eye and she came towards him. "You see a woman in here alone tonight?" he asked." Talk, dark hair…" he trailed off, not quite sure how to describe V. "Lots of ink."

The bartender frowned. She recognized Happy's cut, and knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she was so tired of seeing the same shit over and over again. "You do that to her face?" she asked, sorry she'd said it as soon as the words left her lips.

Happy looked irritated. "What? Her face? I didn't do anything to her goddamn face." He looked around the room again. "Where the fuck is she?"

The bartender thought about lying, but couldn't think of anything plausible to say, and was increasingly concerned about her own safety as Happy's sneer turned to a glower. She jerked her chin towards the bathroom. "In there."

As he pushed the swinging bathroom door opened, Happy had an idea of what he might find behind it. Nothing he saw shocked him. V was on the floor, on her knees, her back towards the door. Up against the counter, his pants around his ankles and his cock in V's mouth, was a redneck kid that looked to be barely out of high school. His eyes were closed, his face blissed out. On the counter was a baggie with a little powder left, and a straw. _Fuck. Why hadn't he just let Jax or Chibs come find her?_ Hap considered turning around and walking out. He was under no obligation to deal with this shit. But he couldn't do it.

Happy was already moving when the kid opened his stunned eyes and realized he and V were no longer alone. He opened his mouth, probably intending to yell at whichever of his friends had disturbed them to get the fuck out, but then saw the biker in front of him and said nothing. Happy all but ignored him, reaching V first and grabbing her by the hair, pulling her away from her task.

"Get the fuck out. Now." Happy growled, barely looking at the kid. Andy didn't argue, and was out of the bathroom before he'd even zipped his fly.

As the door swung shut, Happy looked down at V. She hadn't risen from her knees, and was peering up at him through a curtain of her hair. Her pupils were large, her breathing fast. A trickle of blood was running out of one nostril. "What's the matter, Hap?" she drawled. "You want a turn?" She smiled. "We can do that."

"Get up." His voice was cold. When she didn't get up, he reached back into her hair and pulled her up. Before he let go of her, he pulled her towards the counter, forcing her face within inches of the baggie. "Is this who you are? Suckin' dick for crank? You a goddamn whore?" His face was twisted with disgust. _This was the woman he'd wanted so badly when he first met her in Oregon?_ _The woman to whom he'd given his mother's car?_ _The woman two of his brothers had been battling for? Tweaking on a bar bathroom floor, sucking off some fucking townie kid? _He wanted to spit.

V glared back at Happy. "Don't get all fuckin' self-righteous," she said. "Besides, I wasn't sucking the cock for the crystal. I bought the crystal. The cock-sucking was just recreation." She smiled again, and reached towards him, aiming for his belt, but ending up with her hands pressed against the hard plane of his stomach. "C'mon, don't be mad." She fluttered her eyelids comically, unaware of the blood still dripping from her nose, or the matching trickle now coming from the lip she'd re-split. "You know I'd rather it be you."

Happy grabbed both of her hands off him and jerked her towards the door. "Come on," he said. "I'm takin' you home." He glared at her. "And keep your fuckin' hands off me."


	28. Chapter 28

Under the streetlight outside the bar, Happy got a better look at V. She looked worse than he'd thought, makeup smearing off her face, which seemed to be one big bruise. She'd made an almost imperceptible noise when he'd grabbed her arm and pulled her out, and he realized, now, that he was holding the same arm that had been so badly broken the night he'd saved her from the Russians. He dropped it.

"Hap, listen," V said, trying to get him to stop as he dragged her towards his bike. "Please! I can't…please don't take me home." She'd repeated herself several times by the time they got across the parking lot.

"I'm not gonna leave you here," he growled. What in God's name had made him come after her? This should not be his problem. He made the mistake of looking down at her, though, and saw that her face was no longer just irritated, but panicked. She looked scared.

"Please, Hap," V begged. She licked her split lip. "I can't be alone. I can't." She reached towards him and he backed away. Her lip trembled.

Happy was just as disgusted with this pathetic behavior as with what he'd witnessed in the bathroom. He'd never had a particular soft spot for a crying woman—the bitches did it too often for it to mean much—and V looked like she was going to start the waterworks any minute. He considered leaving her ass right where she stood. In the end, though, she was someone his brothers cared about, and that was reason enough to make sure she stayed safe. He shot her an irritated look. "Why don't you want to go home?"

"I just…it's too quiet. It's too…too much me." V looked puzzled, as if she didn't know the words for what she was trying to say. "I gotta stay out of my head. I need noise." She looked miserable as she said it, as if she had already given up on talking him out of taking her home.

Oddly, V's plea resonated with Happy. He didn't much like to be alone in quiet places either, and he knew she'd be awake for hours. Besides, he realized, if he took her home she'd like just leave again, and there was no way he was going to stay there with her and fend her off all night.

"Fine," he sighed. "Can you hold on, or do we need to drive?"

-0-

Fiona didn't call often. Even after her disgust for Chibs had faded into a general distain, she never made a point of keeping communication open. For the first few years he'd been in the States, Chibs had tried to insist she talk to him, claiming that Kerrianne was his daughter, too, and that he had a right to at least hear how she was doing, but in the end it only hurt worse that way, so he slowly gave up. Now he was lucky to hear from either of them once or twice a year. Still, despite all the years of distance, he felt his heart in his throat every time he heard her voice.

This time was no different. He picked up his phone without a glance to see who was calling, not even realizing the number was an Irish one. "Aye?"

"Filip."

It took only a few words for Chibs to piece together why Fi had called. Though she didn't mention who died, there had to have been wake, because she was at the morose end of a long Irish drunk. In this mood, she'd always been one to dig up past ugliness. The conversation tread familiar ground, with the typical vague answers to questions about Kerrianne, veiled references to the Cause, and halfhearted but still biting jabs at Chibs' commitment and masculinity, particularly as it compared to Jimmy's.

Upon hearing the voice at the other end of the phone, Chibs had laid down his pool cue and forfeited the game. He sat at the bar now, focused completely on the receiver. "What's up with him?" The Prospect nodded in Chibs' direction.

Jax frowned. At first, he'd assumed the call was from V, but he'd seen that look on Chibs' face before. "Has to be Ireland," he said.

Half-Sack's eyes widened, assuming Jax meant a problem with the IRA gun business. "Nah, not that," Jax explained. "His wife."

Half-Sack had never quite wrapped his mind around Chibs having a wife, or, for that matter, a kid. With the exception of V, he'd never seen his sponsor take more than an evening or two worth of interest in any given woman. As much as any of the Sons, and more than some, Chibs seemed to really enjoy the lifestyle the Club allowed him, with its easy access to booze and pussy and no expectation of responsibility or settling down. The idea of him married just didn't make sense. "What's she like?" he asked.

Jax snorted. "Crazy."

"Like V?" As per usual, Half-Sack spoke before he thought it through.

Jax took it well, chuckling. "Not really," he said. "Meaner. That bitch is a snake." He glanced towards Chibs at the bar. He knew a chunk of the back-story between Chibs and Fiona, but even his knowledge had gaps, and it wasn't something he was going to share with the Prospect. "Here," he tossed Chibs' abandoned cue at Half-Sack. "You break."

Just when Chibs thought the call was winding down, Fiona surprised him. "So," she said, her voice dropping to the purr that had always made him crazy, "who is she?"

"Who?" Speaking to Fiona left him feeling slightly off-guard, like he might not quite be following everything she was really saying.

"The mot, Filip. I hear tell you've got a new one."

_Good Christ,_ Chibs thought, _is that what this is about?_ "A decade and an ocean between us, Fi, and you're jealous?"

Fiona laughed. "Not jealous, my love. Worried." She made a clucking sound. "Boys say this one is…violent."

Chibs had no idea who Fiona had been talking to, but there was always a pipeline between the stateside IRA and the homeland faithful. Someone had given her an earful. "Don't see how it's much your concern, sweetheart."

"Ah now, no need to get defensive." She'd have sounded almost polite to anybody else. He could hear her sneering, knowing he was right where she wanted him. "Only natural for me to be nervous. I know how you can be."

Chibs looked down at his hand, tightly fisted and smashing against the top of the bar. Goddamn this woman and her ability, even now, to get right to him. "How's that, love?"

"You don't always see things as they are. You're so emotional." She sighed with false apprehension. "I'd hate for you to get hurt."

Chibs snorted. He pictured, for a moment, a meeting between Fiona and V. Past her prime now, Fi would never be able to keep up with V physically, but she certainly could teach her a thing or two about how to draw blood without ever raising a hand. "So," Fiona continued, "is she your…what do you lads call it? Your Old Lady?"

Chibs' voice was unusually tight. "No, Fi, she's not my Old Lady." Once again, he felt the burn in his chest of having been too close to V, too invested in her. The spectacular train wreck in which his relationship with Fiona had ended had left him sure he'd never have another exclusive woman. The night he'd first been with V, when she'd told him she wasn't cut out to be an Old Lady, he remembered thinking that pretty much made her the perfect woman. It all felt so much more complicated now.

"Good, good," Fiona said. "I don't know why you'd draw to a brutal woman, Filip. You have to know that can't work. You just don't have it in you."

As the conversation went on, it became all the more obvious that Fiona had called simply to turn the screws. By the time he hung up, Chibs' insides were in the kind of knots that only Fiona had ever been able to tie. He sat at the bar for a while, alone, taking a series of shots. It was too much. He hadn't asked for this, for V to appear out of nowhere and be a living, fighting, breathing, fucking embodiment of what he'd lost when he'd lost Fi. And now, for her to be all that and something else, besides, surrounded in pain all her own and not afraid to share—it was more than he'd bargained for. "Fucking women," he muttered, pouring himself another shot. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he barely noticed when Happy returned to the Clubhouse, V trailing behind him.


	29. Chapter 29

"Don't," Half-Sack caught V's arm as she began to move towards where Chibs was sitting. He'd met her eyes briefly, then returned to looking into his glass. She seethed, her mind replaying his gentle hands the night before, his telling her he was right there. Where the fuck was he now?

V pulled her arm away. "What the fuck?"

The Prospect looked worried. "He's...in a mood."

"Yeah? So am I."

"Seriously, V." One look at Chibs gave a pretty good impression that he was in no mind to be fucked with. Half-Sack sighed. "He had a phone call…from his Old Lady."

V felt her stomach sink a little, then immediately grew even angrier. Why the fuck should she care who Chibs had a phone call from? His wife, whoever the bitch was, wasn't here. She was.

Happy had gotten V in the door, spoke a few quiet words to Jax, then disappeared again, unable to get away fast enough. From across the pool table, Jax looked at V, first with curiosity, then with comprehension. When he approached, he spoke not to V, but to Half-Sack, "Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. Either you or Chibs watch her…" He glanced at Chibs at the bar. "You watch her." His face was tight. He didn't even look at V, just headed towards the door.

Half-Sack eyed V curiously. Characteristically slow to pick up on nuance, he had realized there was something off about her, but not what it was. Both Jax and Happy had seemed awfully quick to leave, though. "Jesus," he asked, "what the fuck did you do?"

V looked around the Clubhouse, realizing it was now empty but for her, Half-Sack, and Chibs. She looked not at Half-Sack, but at Chibs when she answered. "Nothing much," she said, slowly and loudly enough to be sure Chibs heard. "A couple of hits of crystal and a blow-job in a bathroom." Seeing the Prospect's mouth open in disbelief, she smiled widely. "Don't know what the big fuss is about."

At the bar, Chibs tightened his grimace, but didn't look up. He knew what she was trying to do, had known she would do it before she even walked through the door. Last night, she'd been broken and sad and scared, and she'd let him take care of her. Tonight, she was still broken and sad, but she was also furious, at him and at herself. Even if she hadn't been high, even if he hadn't talked to Fiona, this wouldn't have been a pretty scene.

"Get out, Prospect." Chibs still didn't look up, but his voice made it clear that the request wasn't optional.

Half-Sack stood still a minute, weighing Jax's telling him to watch V with Chibs' order. Finally, he decided Chibs posed the more immediate and probably more severe danger. Shooting V another worried look over his shoulder, he headed out.

"Come here." The tone of Chibs' voice didn't change. When V came close enough to grasp, he reached out and grabbed her bruised jaw, hard. He looked up, taking stock of her face, then twisting it so she was forced to look at herself in the mirror behind the bar. "Look at yourself."

V did as she was told, her heart starting to beat faster. Her face was bruised, one eye very swollen. Her pupils were dilated and shining. Her hair hung wildly around her. She looked damaged. She looked feral. "So?" she asked.

"I oughtta knock your goddamn teeth out, save you the trouble," Chibs' voice was low and cruel. "Perfect little meth whore."

V smiled, catching Chibs' eyes. "So do it," she taunted.

Chibs shook his head. "Gettin' beat up is about all you're good for," he muttered.

V laughed. "Make up your mind, baby," she cooed. "I can think of a couple of other things you think I'm good for."

Chibs snorted, looking back down at his glass as if V disinterested him. "You think you're some kinda special prize? Everybody just can't wait to get a piece? Christ." He looked up again, his eyes boring into V. "You're just another slut, princess. And an agin' one, at that."

Listening to himself talk to V, Chibs' self-disgust only grew. He was angry with her, but his real fury was self-directed. He knew he shouldn't have left her alone that morning, and yet he hated himself all the more for thinking twice about doing it. Fiona's voice still rang in his ears. He couldn't be hard enough for V when she needed hardness, and he couldn't love her properly when she needed love. It was like it was all happening over again.

V was silent for only a moment. She knew Chibs' words were meant to sting, and they did. Still, it wasn't the first time he'd pretended she meant nothing to him. That didn't make it real. "Not sure I like you talkin' to your bitch wife," she said. "Turns you into kind of an asshole."

Chibs' hand came up so fast V barely noticed it before it was at her throat. "You're not even fit to mention her," he hissed, squeezing hard enough to make V gasp. "She has a cause. You don't know shit about fightin' for something." He squeezed harder. "You're fuckin' pathetic. Coward."

In spite of herself, V felt a lump forming in her throat. She knew how vulnerable she'd been to Chibs recently, particularly the previous night. She already hated that she had opened up to him, and with every word he made it worse. She wanted to leave, to turn and run from the room, but knew she had nowhere to go. Unable to come up with a response in words, and feeling her sadness and the horror of being stuck rise in her, she reached out and grabbed the first thing she could touch—the whiskey bottle from which Chibs had been pouring his drinks—and swung.

Chibs was so surprised he didn't even duck. Luckily, the drugs and V's exhaustion and weakness colluded to impact her aim and the bottle hit not Chibs, but the edge of the bar in front of him. "Goddammit!" he yelled, jumping up, his bar stool clattering to the floor. Glass and whiskey flew in all directions.

The next few minutes were a blur. V sprung on Chibs, her fists flying but making little contact. Chibs shoved V against the bar and headed towards the door, but she caught him before he could get there. "Don't you run out on me again, motherfucker," she screamed. "I'm a coward? You're a goddamn coward." She grabbed for him wildly, pulling his hair with one hand and pummeling the other fist against his chest.

Chibs hadn't realized, until he'd stood up so quickly, how many shots of whiskey he'd taken. V's face swam in front of him. He was only vaguely aware of her fists, or of the slivers of glass in his face and arm. "Get out of the way," he muttered, trying again to push past her. She wouldn't let go.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice still loud, her hands still on him. "Is it only fun if I don't fight back?"

"V, get the fuck out of the way." His voice was low. "You're gonna get hurt." His hands were shaking, balled into fists at his sides.

V laughed, but before she realized what was happening, tears were running down her face. "Is that what's gonna happen?" she asked, her voice suddenly quieter, farther away. "Are you gonna hurt me?" She dropped her hands.

Chibs stared at V. He knew that his initial instinct had been the right one—tonight was no time for the two of them to have it out, with fists or with words, and he should leave. But he'd known he should leave before. It hadn't ever made a difference. He sighed. "Is that what you want?" He reached towards her and traced the track of a tear down her bruised face. "What the fuck do you want from me, princess?"

V didn't answer. The look on her face was pure misery—he knew she didn't have an answer. Chibs closed his eyes for a moment, unsure what to do, then put his hand on the back of her neck and steered her towards his room.

Chibs sat V down on his bed. "Stay there." Seeing the look on her face, as if she was planning her escape route, he shook his head. "Stay fucking there, or I will tie you down." It was clear he wasn't kidding.

V stayed put while Chibs went into the bathroom and, grimacing, pulled the small pieces of glass from his face and arm. He was quiet while he did it, the water coming from the faucet the only noise. After he'd cleaned himself up, he grabbed the little medic kit from under the sink and sat down next to V.

"I'm fine," she said. "I don't need you to take care of me."

He ignored her, picking pieces of glass from her arm as well. After a while, he spoke. It was a bit of a struggle, but he kept his voice calm. "What the fuck is this about? Comin' in here, talkin' about getting high and blowing some fucker in a bathroom? What did you do?"

V thought about lying, but knew it would do her no good. She'd already outed herself, and Happy knew the truth anyway. Briefly, she described her evening.

Chibs' jaw tensed as she spoke, and by the time she was done he was once again having a hard time containing his anger. He got up, returning the medic kit to the bathroom, taking deep breaths, then stood across the room from her, leaning against the dresser. He remembered, inappropriately, the first night they'd been together, how he'd pushed her against the same dresser. It seemed much longer ago than it had been. Finally, he began to speak. He looked at the floor.

"I was 22 when I met Fiona. Just gettin' in with the Cause, not patched in to SAMBEL yet. She was…" he paused, remembering her. "She was on fire, all the time. She'd already seen a lot, but she wasn't bitter, then. She was so beautiful." He still didn't look at V. She didn't interrupt. "Thing went to shit, though. The worse it got, the more killing, the more bombing, the harder she needed me to be. And I…I was hard. She wanted pain, I gave her pain." He paused, glancing at V but not meeting her eyes. "Eventually, it wasn't enough. I'd have had to kill her." He lit a cigarette. "I don't even think Fi liked Jimmy O. when she started fucking him. She just knew it would hurt. Hurt her, hurt me." Finally, he looked up. "Do you get why I am tellin' you this?"

V nodded. "I think so."

Chibs continued. "Jimmy's a sneaky little rat bastard. By the time I knew he had her, he already had it all in the works. Told me he'd kill her if I didn't leave Ireland. The sonofabitch would do it, too. And she'd have let him." He reached up and ran a finger down his scarred cheek. "These were just his going away present." He looked at V again. "There is nobody you can fuck gonna tear me up like that did, princess. If that's your play, you're wastin' your time." He stabbed the cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray. "You want to go find a new way to hurt yourself, do it. I'm not gonna try to stop you."

V looked at him for a long moment, then stood and walked towards him. She stood right in front of him when she spoke, her voice low. "You think I like knowin' that half the time you look at me, you're seeing that bitch's ghost?" she asked. She smiled bitterly. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You're the best way I can hurt myself."

_This shit is pathological,_ he thought. And it was. But she was right there, and the intensity of the evening had to go somewhere. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her further towards him. "You're a crazy bitch," he muttered. Then he kissed her.


	30. Chapter 30

Chibs thought V would never stop. She was insatiable as a rule, but the drugs gave her energy she shouldn't have. Exhausting as she was, though, he couldn't turn her down when she came for a second go, or a third. It wasn't just the sex, it was the release he saw in her eyes, and felt in himself, when he was inside her. Like just for those moments, nothing hurt anymore, nobody was mad anymore. He knew it would only last for so long as they were fucking, but it was a reprieve they both needed.

Given the circumstances under which it had started, the night ended up remarkably gentle. Once her clothes were off, Chibs saw again how badly bruised V's body was, and he felt his immediate anger fade away as she shivered under his touch. He was still furious with her, but his need, or even willingness, to take it out on her flesh was gone. He was shocked when, his face buried in her chest, he heard her whispering "I'm sorry," into his hair. He knew her well enough not to answer, but he was glad she'd said it anyway.

It was when they were quiet, her head on his chest, that the air in the room began to feel suffocating again. Chibs was considering his options, thinking on what he should say, when V broke the silence. "Why aren't you pissed at me?"

He ran his fingers absently through her hair. "Who says I'm not?"

"That didn't feel angry."

"Did you want it to?"

She paused. "I don't know." She seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but didn't.

They were both silent again for a moment. "You can't keep doin' this," Chibs said, finally. "The drugs. Clay won't have it here."

V snorted. "Mustn't displease Clay."

Chibs reached down and grabbed V's chin, forcing her to look at him so she'd know he was serious. "I get why you're not the President's biggest fan right now, darlin', but he's the boss. You know that." He paused, deciding if he wanted to say the rest, then decided it couldn't hurt. "Unless you're an Old Lady."

V was puzzled. "What does me bein' an Old Lady have to do with it?"

"Somebody puts ink on you, you're his problem. Without a man, but affiliated to the Club, you're Clay's." Chibs shrugged.

V felt her blood pressure begin to rise. She knew the answer, but couldn't help but ask the question. "Why the fuck am I not just my own problem?"

Chibs didn't respond, knowing it was rhetorical, but went on. "Clay finds out you been usin', that gives him all the reason he needs to get rid of you."

"Would you care if he did?" V was as surprised as Chibs to hear the question come out of her mouth.

"You know I would." He leaned down and kissed her. He wished he could find more words, somehow let her know that he cared about her, without treading too far into the depths neither of them felt capable of navigating.

"You'd be better off." The statement wasn't an insincere one—V wasn't looking for Chibs to refute it. She knew it was true.

He sighed. "Yeah, probably. My life would be a lot fuckin' easier. But you're here. And I want you to stay." Though he would rather have just gone to sleep and let it lie, he knew he should take advantage of her willingness to talk—it didn't happen that often. So he continued. "Tonight…was this shit about me leavin' this morning?"

"Good Lord. Why does it need to be about anything, other than me wantin' to get high and get laid?" V moved from his chest, propping herself up on one elbow to face him. "You had no obligation to stay this morning."

It was so clear she was lying that Chibs felt like laughing. She usually played the tough girl part so much more convincingly. The lie told him all he needed to know. He reached out and pulled her back towards him. "Lay the fuck down. It's almost mornin'."

It seemed they had only just fallen asleep when Chibs and V were awoken by pounding on the door. "What the fuck do ya want?" Chibs yelled, irritated.

"Get out there brother, we got trouble. We're at the table." Happy's husky voice sounded more alarmed than V would have thought possible.

V sat up, pulling the sheet around her. Chibs was already out of bed, reaching for his jeans. Buttoning them, he turned to face her. In the early morning light of the window he could see concern in her face, but no fear. "Stay here," he said. "Go back to sleep." Pausing after he pulled his t-shirt over his head, he leaned down and kissed her, then added, "I'll come back."

When Chibs entered the Chapel, he saw that most of his brothers were already there. Clay sat at the head of the table as always, Jax at his left. Opie, Happy, Juice, and Kozik were in their chairs. Half-Sack stood in the corner. Piney, he knew, was away at the cabin. Only Tig and Bobby were missing. Jax looked at him with panic in his eyes. "V in there with you?"

"Yeah."

"Thank God."

As Chibs slipped into his seat, Clay began to speak. "We got hit last night. Drive-bys at my house, Jax's, Tig's, and Bobby's." Eyes widened as they took in Bobby and Tig's empty chairs. "Tig's at the police station. Chick he was in bed with is dead. Bobby's at St. Thomas. Two shots through the shoulder. He'll be OK."

"Holy shit." Opie shot a worried look at Jax. "Abel? Gemma?"

"Both fine," Jax replied. "At the hospital, waitin' to hear about Bobby."

"What do we know?" Happy scowled from the end of the table.

"Not much yet." Clay reached into his cut pocked and pulled out a shell casing, rolling it down the table. "Same as was at Darby's." He sighed. "Cops are all over the houses now. Can't get in there until they're done. Until we figure out who the hell is gunnin' for us, though, we go on lockdown." He looked around the table. "Nobody goes anywhere alone. Get your Old Ladies, your kids, whoever else we need to protect. I want everybody here this morning. We lock the gate at noon." He looked at Juice. "Get on the phone. See who we can get here. We may need some help. Nobody comes yet, though. First, we figure out what this is."

As the men got up to leave the room, Jax grabbed Chibs' arm. "V alright?"

Chibs nodded.

Jax took a deep breath. "She's bled too much already." He looked straight into Chibs' eyes. "Keep her safe."

-0-

V was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed and smoking, when Chibs returned. She looked up at him with her lips pursed into a frown. "Too quiet out there," she said. "What's happening?"

Sitting down next to her, Chibs recounted what Clay had told them. She didn't bat an eyelash. "What do you need me to do?"

If he hadn't already been so concerned, Chibs would have been astounded. Aside from Gemma and Fiona, he'd never known a woman with such a cool head. "We head over to your place, get whatever shit you need," he said. "Then we're locked down here. Nobody goes anywhere alone until we figure out what the fuck is going on." He looked at her hard. "That means you, too. House arrest."

It took V less than five minutes to grab everything she needed from her house. Half-Sack waited outside, keeping an eye on the street. Chibs watched as she threw a few tank tops and pairs of underwear in her backpack, then took her Beretta from the nightstand and laid it on top. Next, she picked up her knife, the same one she'd had Happy tattoo on her stomach, and strapped it to her boot. She wasn't taking any chances. Before she left the bedroom, he stopped her, reaching out and pulling her into his chest. "You gotta promise me somethin," he said.

She pulled away, staring at him. "Promise you? What?"

"Don't do anything stupid while this shit is goin' on." He looked at her with hard eyes. "Somebody is tryin' to kill my brothers, their families…maybe you, too. Don't make it any easier for 'em by being stubborn. For once in your goddamn life, just toe the line."

She nodded. "OK," she said. "I promise."


	31. Chapter 31

The clubhouse was eerily silent when V, Chibs, and Half-Sack returned. Each member of SAMCRO, it seemed, was still off gathering his nearest and dearest. The quiet made all three of them uncomfortable. This was not a space that should ever be too quiet. V went immediately to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a pot of coffee and a handful of mugs. She poured them each a cup, then sat down on a barstool.

Unable to keep his tongue any longer, Half-Sack turned to V. "Are you…OK this morning?"

V smiled wanly. "Yeah…uh, I'm…sorry about that." She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. "Not my best night."

Half-Sack returned her smile and shrugged. "Shit happens." He turned towards Chibs. "What about you man, you OK?"

Chibs smirked and cuffed his Prospect lightly on the ear. "Why the fuck wouldn't I be?" he asked, his tone making it clear that he didn't want to hear an answer. He met V's eyes over Half-Sack's head. She looked bruised and worn out.

Finishing her coffee, V stood up. "I need a shower," she said. Then, as if it had just occurred to her, she looked at Chibs. "That OK?"

Chibs was momentarily startled, unsure why V would ask his permission to take a shower. After a moment, it dawned on him—she wasn't sure what the "rules" for lock-ins were, and she was trying to suss the situation out. He appreciated that. "Yeah," he said, "of course." As V started walking towards the bathroom, Chibs stood as well. "Keep an eye out," he told Half-Sack. "Boys should be back soon." Then he followed V down the hall.

Chibs didn't ask V if he could join her in the shower, just followed her into the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. She didn't mind, though, and moved politely to the side so the spray would hit him. For several moments, neither of them spoke, both focused on the hot water washing away the previous night's residue.

As V stood under the showerhead to wet her hair, Chibs looked at her body. The bruises were garish under the harsh light—far worse than they'd seemed the dim, drunk night before. With her head tilted back, he could see the discoloration on her throat, too—the product not of the fight, but of his own anger. He felt a momentary surge of shame. There was no excuse for hurting a woman already so beaten up.

"How are ya feeling?" he asked, his voice low and husky in the steamy room. "You hurtin'?"

V looked at him, her arms raised to squeeze some extra water from her hair. She looked as though she was about to shrug the question off, then decided not to. She smiled. "Feel like I got hit by a goddamn semi," she said. "Everything hurts." She chuckled softly.

"I bet." Chibs looked sympathetic. "Turn around and let me see the back."

V turned, moving her wet hair so Chibs could see. Her back was badly bruised, with one particularly worrisome looking purple-black mark over where her left kidney should be. Chibs ran a very light finger over it. "This looks bad," he said.

V nodded. "I'm keepin' an eye on it," she said. "I've had a bruised a kidney before—it's not an experience you forget." She turned back to face him. "I know I look bad, and I feel fuckin' terrible, but I think it'll all heal. You don't need to worry."

Chibs smiled in spite of himself. It was hard not to be impressed by just how goddamn tough she was. "You're kinda hard not to worry about," he said. "You start pissin' blood, you better fuckin' tell somebody."

"I will." Reaching for the crusty shampoo bottle, V eyed the label critically, then raised her eyebrows. "Does shampoo expire? This looks like it's been here since the Nixon administration."

Chibs shook his head. "It's only a couple months old, smartass." Then he remembered something. "Wait right there."

V looked puzzled. "Where the fuck am I gonna go?" she wondered aloud, beginning to lather her hair. She heard him pull on his jeans and leave the bathroom.

A few minutes later, as V was rinsing the suds from her hair, Chibs returned. In his hand was a half worn-down bar of soap. Triumphantly, he handed it to her. "Was in the bathroom you used while you were stayin' here," he said. "Can't have you smellin' like that stuff," he motioned to the bar of soap in the shower's soap dish. "Wouldn't be you."

V looked unsure at first, then smiled widely as she took the soap from Chibs' hand. He was right—it was her brand, and she must have left it here when she moved out. "Thank you," she said. "That's…that's really nice."

Chibs watched as V dried off, then slowly combed out her wet hair. He'd always enjoyed watching a woman's post-shower routine—there was something soothing about, something that reinforced how different women where from him. He was amazed at their practiced economy of motion, and of how many different steps there seemed to be to take before they declared themselves finished. Not for V, though—at least not today. After she combed out her wet hair, she strode over to her knapsack and pulled out fresh underwear and a tank top, which she pulled on without a bra. No makeup, no blow dryer, no lotions or potions. Nothing unnecessary. Something about that, in the situation in which they were in, struck Chibs as extremely hot.

"People gonna be bringin' their kids?" she asked, finally breaking the silence. She knew he'd been watching her, but didn't mind. It felt neither predatory nor protective, but curious. She wondered what it was he was watching for.

Chibs nodded. "Yeah. Ope's kids will be here. Abel. Think that chick Ope's seein' has a kid. Why?" He looked puzzled.

V motioned to her face. "I can try to cover this up. Don't want to freak them out." She peered into the dusty mirror over the dressed. "Dunno how much good it's gonna do, though," she mused, pushing her wet hair to the side to examine her face.

"These kids all seen a black eye before," Chibs said. Months, now, spent around her and she still surprised him. He never would have guessed her one to worry about what might freak out a kid. "Besides, you're still beautiful." He hadn't intended for those thoughts to pass his lips.

V turned and looked at him. He expected her to shrug the comment off, or answer it with sarcasm. Instead, she smiled. "Thank you," she said, her voice softer than usual. She walked towards where he was sitting on the bed and he reached out towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. She didn't twist out of his grasp, but fell into it, running her fingers through his still-damp hair while he buried his face in her stomach, inhaling her scent.

After a few minutes, Chibs lifted his face and pushed V slightly away so he could meet her eyes, still keeping his arms locked around her waist. "Do we need to talk about last night?" he asked.

V sighed. "I don't know, do we?"

"I meant what I said about the drugs—Clay will find out, and he will use it as a reason to get rid of you." Chibs' face was serious. "I can't protect you from that. And eventually, Jax won't be able to either." V could see the hardness creeping into his face and knew he was telling the truth, though he wasn't all that comfortable with it.

"If Clay wants me gone, he'll find a reason." V's face was serious. She raised a hand to her bruised face. "But if this was supposed to scare me off, he's gonna have to try harder."

Chibs grinned, unsurprised by her reaction. "I don't know that he wants you gone, princess. He just…wants you to behave." He looked thoughtful. "I think he'd like havin' you around if he knew you were…under control."

"Meanin'?"

"Meanin' not about to go off and do some stupid shit." Chibs gave V a hard look. "Like you did last night." Before she could answer, he continued. "Especially now."

V pursed her lips like she wanted to argue, but didn't. Instead, she pulled out of Chibs' grasp and sat down on the bed next to him instead. "You gonna tell me what's goin' on?" she asked. "You all got any idea who is after Sam Crow?"

Chibs sighed. Talking Club business with a woman, even one whom he trusted to lay her life on the line for his brothers the same way he would himself, was just not allowed. Not that there was much to tell her anyway—as far as he knew, there were exactly no suspects for the shootings.

V read Chibs' expression and guessed what he was thinking. "Nevermind," she said. "Just tell me what I need to do."

Once again, Chibs was surprised. From V, those words seemed almost like a joke, but he knew she was serious. He felt a surge of something like pride. "Don't know yet," he said. "Just stay close. Help Gemma out if you can. There's likely to be a lot of people who aren't all that comfortable bein' here, you know? And it might be a while."

V nodded. She chewed on her lip for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to say something. Finally, she sighed and looked resigned to just saying whatever it was. "You and me," she said slowly. "We're…together…here?" She looked exasperated at herself for asking, but went on. "If we're not, that's fine, but I need to know. I need to know what to expect. Don't want any scenes."

This time, Chibs couldn't hide his surprise. These were truly the last words he'd have expected to hear from V, particularly only a handful of hours after she'd smirkingly told him about blowing somebody else in a bar bathroom. She certainly had nerve. He smiled slightly. "What are you askin', princess?"

V scowled at him. Ought to have known he would make this harder. Swallowing, she decided it was best just to come out with it. "This lock-in thing, it's everybody's families, right?"

Chibs nodded.

"What about hangers-on? Sweetbutts?"

Chibs shrugged. "Probably be some around, but they don't have to stay. It's just…people who might be targeted."

"So why am I here? Gonna be pretty obvious I'm nobody's family."

As her mouth twisted the words out, Chibs knew exactly what she was asking for. Much as this woman pissed him off, his heart still hurt for her when she said it. He nodded his head and reached towards her. "Long as we're locked in here," he said, "you're with me."


	32. Chapter 32

_OK, y'all, I can see that you're still reading, but nobody is reviewing! Please, leave me a few words? I really appreciate the feedback. _

-0-

By noon, the Clubhouse was full. All of the members of SAMCRO were there, along with every close Club friend or family member who lived within an hour of Charming. The men mostly sat around, speaking quietly to one another, smoking like chimneys. Kids ran around. Gemma was in constant motion. Watching her, V noticed her lined face. Having to run out of her house without makeup, the Queen looked much closer to her age than usual.

V did her best to make herself useful. Ignoring the questioning looks her bruised face garnered, she poured coffee, made sandwiches, and corralled children. She forced herself to smile and even to laugh and joke as much as she could. The air in the Clubhouse was heavy, so she did her best to lighten it.

Across the room from where she was pouring Piney a cup of coffee, Chibs watched V. She was battered, and looked exhausted, but nowhere near so bad as he'd expect, given what the events of the past few days had held for her. He knew he should still be angry at her behavior, but he couldn't really find much rage. Right now, she was impressing him with her willingness to help and her ability to pull her shit together and do so. Who knew how long it would last, though.

Realizing it was only a matter of time before Clay called them all back to the table, Chibs met Half-Sack's eyes and jerked his head towards where Jax and Happy were sitting at a table. Might as well get this uncomfortable little talk over with before anybody had a chance to spill his guts. Once all four of them were at the table, Chibs spoke quickly. "I want to ask you boys a favor. Last night, with V—don't mention it to anybody else."

Jax looked as surprised as Chibs knew he would. He was, he knew, stepping over a line here, asking his brothers to keep a secret from the rest of the Club for V on his request, as if she were his Old Lady. It was Happy who spoke, though. "She's outta control. Could hurt the Club. Clay needs to know."

"You're not wrong, brother. Somebody has to keep her in line." Chibs felt far from sure about what he was about to say, but said it anyway. "I'll be responsible for her."

Jax's eyes were wide. "You puttin' her on the books?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Chibs shook his head. "That ain't ever gonna happen. But if Clay needs her to be someone's problem, then she can be mine. Just don't give him this ammo to use against her." He met Jax's eyes and knew Jax wouldn't have said anything anyway. The Prospect, too, could be relied on to keep his mouth shut. Happy was the wild card.

Happy rubbed his bald head. He had noticed that the V in the Clubhouse today bore little resemblance to the one he'd dragged out of the bar the night before. Still, that didn't mean it hadn't happened. "You think you can keep her that close, bro?" he asked. "Club don't need her shit now. Not when we got real trouble."

Chibs nodded. "Yeah. She gets that." He moved his head slightly towards the door to the kitchen, where V was now standing with Gemma. "V's loyal. She'll help the Club any way she can."

Happy nodded slowly. It was true that he had no reason to doubt V's allegiance to the Club, no matter how destructive she got. "Alright, man. I'll let it go this time. But if she fucks up again, it's on you, and Clay hears about all of this." He shook his head. "I got no idea why you'd take that on."

Chibs smiled. "Thanks, boys." In truth, he wasn't completely sure why he'd take it on, either. As compelling as V was, he didn't trust her for a second not to pull anymore shit, nor was he confident in his ability to handle her. But someone had to step up for her. When he looked up again, he saw that Jax was looking at him. The expression on his face looked almost like pity.

Chibs was still sitting at the table with Jax, Happy, and Half-Sack when V approached. He could tell she didn't want to, but she set her jaw and came up to him anyway. She nodded and smiled at Jax and Happy, but said nothing about the night before. She focused on Chibs. "Your little medic bag," she asked, "does it happen to have a Valium or a Xanax or something in it?"

Chibs furrowed his brow. "You comin' down that hard?" She didn't look like she was.

Had V been the type to blush, she would have. As it was, a brief look of shame crossed her face. "No," she said quickly, "it's not for me." She nodded towards the corner of the room. "Lyla. She's freaking the fuck out and I can't calm her down." Following V's nod, all four men saw Opie's new chick sitting on a chair, her legs pulled up under her, her eyes wide. Even across the room, her fear was obvious.

Chibs chuckled. "She looks like she could use it. None in the bag, though. Ask Juice—he's probably got somethin'." As V turned to go, he grabbed her wrist. "You OK?"

V nodded. "I'm good." She smiled a small smile at him before she walked away.

As Chibs turned back to the table, he found every man at it staring at him. "What?"

Happy shook his head. "Man, you gotta be fuckin' suicidal. That is the wrong bitch to get that look on your face about."

Jax said nothing , but his face spoke volumes. He hadn't realized, until witnessing this tiny exchange between them, that there was really something between V and Chibs, something that might last. He was struck with the thought that he might never be with her again. And just as struck by a second thought, that it might be for the best.

Having had about as much humility as he could stand, Chibs shook his head. "No special look on my face, brother," he said with a shrug. "Somebody has to keep on eye on the girl."

The men of Sam Crow spent a large part of the afternoon around the reaper table. Unser had turned up nothing of use at any of the shooting scenes, just more of the same shells Clay showed the Club earlier and some vague descriptions of dark colored vans and/or SUVs. If anybody had seen anything, they weren't coming forward. The only enemies anybody could think of that SAMCRO might have in common with The Nords were Mayans and Niners, and those feuds were, as far as anybody knew, in peacetime. Clay placed calls to both Alvarez and LeRoy, and neither of them showed any indication he knew anything about the attacks. Given the relationships between the Clubs, it seemed unlikely they'd choose to shoot up SAMCRO houses and try to hide it, so they were struck from the short list of suspects.

The group discussed every enemy any of them could think of from the past decade or more, but nobody came up with a likely suspect. Finally, Clay sighed and pushed back slightly from the table and looked at Happy. "You gonna be here for this to go down?" he asked.

Happy scowled. "You know I will."

"Good. I think we're gonna need the muscle." He sighed and chewed on his cigar. "Call around," he said to Juice. "See who else we can get here. Gonna have a full house, but I'd rather have too many guns than not enough, and right now, we got no idea what we're lookin' at."

Juice nodded, then was suddenly struck by something. "Hey," he said slowly, "what about the Russians? Retaliation for the ones V took out?"

The men at the table were quiet for moment, considering the possibility. "Why'd they hit Darby, then?" Tig asked.

"Maybe they came back for another go and Darby wouldn't help this time?" Juice didn't look at all sure—it made him nervous when the entire MC's attention was directed at him.

"Doesn't seem all that likely," Clay said. "But we got nothin' else." He looked to his right, where Tig and Chibs sat. "Go talk to Darby."

"Gonna be hard to do," Chibs said. "When we tried to visit our Nazi friend before, we were escorted outta Saint Thomas before we even made it to his room."

Clay frowned. "Wait until visiting time, tomorrow. Go visit Bobby. They'll let you do that." He smiled. "Take V with you. Fucked up as her face is, nobody's gonna question why she's there. And I'm sure she'd love to pay her respects to Darby."

"You sure about that Clay?" Tig asked. "I don't wanna have to keep that crazy bitch from slittin' his throat."

Clay continued to smile, but turned his attention to Chibs. "You think you can keep that from happenin'?" It was as if he'd overheard the earlier conversation, and was now asking Chibs to prove his commitment to keeping V in check.

Chibs had hoped not to have to make any big pronouncements beyond what he'd already told Happy, Jax, and Half-Sack. He had no idea what to expect from V. But his mind kept returning to her asking if they were together, while this lock-in was underway. That might well be as close to asking for his protection as she was ever going to get. "Yeah," he said. "She'll do what I tell her." He kept his focus on Clay, not wanting to see the looks the statement might bring out in his brothers.

"Good." Clay's smile turned back to a scowl. "I got no more patience for that bitch."

When the doors finally opened on the Chapel, the rest of the Clubhouse was bustling with suppertime. Pans of lasagna and bowls of salad were laid out on the bar, with stacks of paper plates and plastic silverware next to them. The kids were eating crowded around the TV, which was playing some Disney movie. Lyla sat with them, looking, Chibs noticed, fairly stoned. Juice must have hooked V up with something for her.

After he filled his plate, Chibs continued to look around the room and realized he didn't see V. He felt a knot of dread in his stomach. _She couldn't have taken off already. Surely Gemma would have noticed. _Glancing up, he saw Jax looking at him, then around the room, clearly wondering the same thing. His paper plate in his hand, Chibs headed toward his room, already preparing himself for the worst.

When he pushed open the door, Chibs didn't expect the site he saw. The best he could hope for was a tense V doing push-ups or shadow boxing. Instead, he saw V on his bed, curled up on her side, fast asleep. She was completely dressed, the leg of her jeans pulled up slightly to reveal the bottom of her boot holster. On the nightstand, less than a foot from her hand, was her Beretta. Chibs felt his lips push up into a smile.

Quietly, Chibs let the door shut behind him. After he'd finished dinner, maybe played a game or two of pool, he'd come back, take her boots off, cover her with the blanket. If he started that now, though, he knew he'd crawl in bed next to her. For now, he'd let her sleep.


	33. Chapter 33

Chibs lingered in the Clubhouse's main room for hours. He ate several plates of food, chatted with numerous people, and played at least a half dozen games of pool. He told himself it was just that he wanted V to get some rest before he headed back to his room and ravished her, but in truth, he was avoiding the conversation he knew he would have to have with her about the next day's planned visit to Darby. Telling the Club he could keep her under control was one thing, but his actual track record in doing so was mixed, at best, and the memory of the night before was still too fresh for him to overestimate the influence he would have.

When Chibs finally did push the door to his room open, he was surprised to find V in the same place he'd last seen her. She didn't look to have moved at all. Remembering what had happened the last time he woke her up, and cognizant of the gun by her hand, he stood across the room, and spoke to her. "Wake up, princess."

It took only a moment for V to open her eyes. She looked momentarily confused, then seemed to realize where she was. She smiled slightly. "Have I been out long?"

Chibs grinned. "Hours.

"Fuck, really?" She sat up. "Is Gemma pissed? I should have been helping…"

"Nah, bunch of sweetbutts showed up a while ago. Gemma has all the hands she needs." If he hadn't been so sure it couldn't be possible, Chibs would have sworn he saw a quick wave of jealousy or indignation cross V's face when he mentioned sweetbutts. He crossed the room, sitting next to her on the bed. "You feel any better?"

"Yeah. Kinda feel like I could sleep for a hundred years." She nodded towards the door. "Everything OK out there?"

"Aye." Chibs sighed. "Clay wants you in it tomorrow."

V was puzzled. "OK. What's up?"

Chibs met her eyes, waiting to see her reaction. "We're goin' to the hospital. To pay a visit to Darby."

V's face darkened slightly, but she didn't flinch. "Tryin' to find out the connection between the shoot ups?"

Chibs nodded. "You're our cover." He reached out and gently touched her bruised face. "Look like you belong in a hospital."

V nodded again. If she had a problem with the plan, she was holding it close to her chest.

Chibs continued. "This has gotta be a cordial visit. If Darby knows anything, we're not gonna get it out of him with threats. I know how bad you want to hurt that prick, and I don't blame you, but this ain't the time. You get that?"

"Yeah, I get that." V reached for her cigarettes and didn't speak again until she'd lit one, inhaled, and exhaled. "This a test?"

"Might be." Chibs took the cigarette she offered and took a drag.

V looked at him curiously. "Clay testing me, or you?"

Chibs couldn't help but smile. Couldn't get a whole lot past her. He'd bet she knew just what he was talking to Half-Sack, Jax, and Happy about earlier, and that he'd taken responsibility for her with them, and thus with the Club. "Think it's the same thing, princess," he said. "We're in this together."

V grinned. "This the part where you give me a lecture about behaving tomorrow, then?"

For a moment, Chibs was pissed. _Did she think this was a joke?_ He calmed almost immediately, though, as she continued. "You can give me the talk. Won't say I don't deserve it. But you don't have to. I'll be on best behavior. I'm not gonna do anything stupid while the Club is under attack." She put the cigarette down in the closest ashtray and moved closer to him. "I promise."

Chibs' eyes were wide. "Who are you?" he murmured, opening his arms as V climbed into his lap, facing him. It was as if the dangerous, feral creature who had been here only last night was gone completely. He wanted so badly to trust it, to just believe this was who she was going to be now, but he knew better. V may be cool under fire, but the Club's problems weren't going to make everything else she was feeling disappear. It was all going to come out somehow.

V laughed softly, but didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her head and met Chibs' lips with hers. Her kiss was soft, her lips barely brushing his. For some reason, though, Chibs was unable to meet her tenderness with his own. It might have been just that their interactions already had a pattern in his mind and it was one he found hard to break. It might have been that he was harboring anger from the night before and still needed to get it out of his system. Or, perhaps it was just the excitement of her compliance that he found difficult to contain. Whatever it was, he met her lips with bruising roughness, eliciting a sharp intake of surprised breath. Before she could exhale, he had her on her back, pinned against the mattress, his hands pawing roughly at her chest, his lips relentless against hers.

V's eyes flew open in shock. Chibs was handling her no more roughly than he had many other times, but she hadn't been expecting it—and hadn't asked for it—tonight. She tipped her head back, confused, but unable to keep from responding. His lips and teeth pushed hard against the flesh of her throat, over the bruises his hands had made the night before. She considered reaching out to stop him, or asking him to slow down, but thought better of it. She knew he was letting her off easy for her previous night's behavior. Maybe he needed this. God knew he'd spent enough nights giving her what she needed—it was the least she could do to return the favor.

Chibs' rough exploration of V's body continued for quite some time, and she lay still, allowing it. He ran his fingers over her most bruised parts, but was nowhere near so gentle about it as he'd been in the shower, or even the previous evening. It was as if he wanted her to react, to gasp in pain or to ask him to stop. She bit her lips, but said nothing. Finally, he seemed to tire of the game. He propped himself up on an elbow beside her, still fully dressed, though she was nude. "Am I hurting you?"

She answered without thinking. "Yes. Is it helping?"

He smiled. "Maybe."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" The words felt as strange coming out of V's mouth as they sounded to Chibs' ears.

Before he responded, he looked her up and down. There was no self-consciousness to her nudity, nor any flaunting. The lean muscles, the bruises, the scars were all laid out before him, and it was clear that she would trust him to do whatever he wished to her. She was, he knew, offering to listen to his woes not because she wanted to, or because she'd rather that than take his physical abuse, but because she thought that might be what he wanted. He was once again blown away at her ability to be both the selfish, self-destructive bitch of the previous night and the strong, calm woman he saw before him. "No," he finally said. "I want to fuck you."

"Christ!" V's voice sounded far away. Her face was smashed into the pillow, her back arched, as Chibs pounded into her. He held tight to her hips, not allowing her to pull away from his deep, painful thrusts. "Oh…oh, God, OH GOD!…" She could hear herself babbling, and was vaguely aware and concerned that the rest of the packed clubhouse might be able to hear her as well, but she couldn't stop. His pace was bruising, and though every thrust had her worried her legs would give out, she begged him not to stop. "Please, please, more…more. Oh, God, more…"

When it finally ended, both Chibs and V were exhausted. He collapsed on top of her, muttering a mixture of English curse words and Gaelic endearments in her ear. Finally, unable to take a full breath under his weight, she wriggled out from under him and looked at his still-flushed face. She looked at him with half-hooded eyes, her skin still buzzing. "Whatever it is you're workin' out on me," she said, "feel free to work it out anytime. That was amazing."

He grinned. "Good. Because there's somethin' I want you to do." He didn't wait for her to ask what it was. "This mornin' you asked if you were with me while we're on lock-in. I want you to be with me after things go back to normal." The words were nearly as surprising to him as they were to her, and even more surprising than the sudden violence had been.

V blinked, stunned. "You mean…"

"Yeah. I mean be my Old Lady. And I know you don't want to, and I get that. But the way I see it, it's your only move. You're not gonna survive with Sam Crow on your own." He couldn't believe what he was saying. He'd begun to think it over, of course, but hadn't intended to discuss any of it with her, at least not until he had it figured out for himself. But it was too late to turn back now.

"Why…" V trailed off, not even sure what to say. "Why would you want that? And for fuck's sake, aren't you still married?"

Chibs chuckled. His marriage was certainly not the first thing he'd expected her to bring up. "I am," he said. "And I'm gonna stay married. Do you really care?" He looked at her hard. "I know you ain't gonna wear a crow or go on the books. That's not what I'm talkin' about. I'm talkin' about a…commitment. You belongin' to me."

V stared at him and said nothing.


	34. Chapter 34

The thing that most surprised V, as the silence in the room grew more repressive, was that she wanted to say yes. She wanted to agree to this vague commitment Chibs was proposing, to agree to be with him even after the lock-in was over. She wanted, bizarrely badly, to crawl back over to him and lay her head against his chest, for him to hold her and stroke her hair and mutter things she only half understood. But that made no sense, and she knew it. She also didn't want the refusal Chibs must know was coming to start a fight.

So V said nothing. Instead, she gave Chibs a long look. Tilting her head to the side, she ran her eyes down his face, then down his chest, stopping on his recovering cock.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered as she moved towards him, kicking her legs out behind her as she laid on her belly with her face in his lap. He'd be pissed later, he knew, that he'd allowed her to change the subject without even giving him the respect of a response, but it was hard to maintain any complete thought as she wrapped her lips around his soft cock, then pulled the entirety into her mouth. Her mouth was warm, gentle, and persuasive. And his view of the small of her back and her ass wasn't bad, either. It took only a few minutes for her to coax him back to hardness.

V was smiling as she pulled away. "Sit back," she said, pushing him gently towards the headboard. He didn't argue, and as she climbed on to him, he couldn't help but return her smile. "Manipulative bitch," he muttered. "Most infuriating goddamn woman I ever met." As she slid down his length, his words turned to a hissed curse. "Fuuuuuckkkk…so goddamn tight."

Though Chibs attempted a couple of times to take control from her and increase her pace, he didn't try hard, and V remained in charge, rolling her hips and moving slowly up and down the length of him. She tilted her head back and he looked up at the magnificent spectacle of her tits. By the time he reached for them, his previous irritation with her was forgotten, exactly as she'd intended. She stilled as he began to squeeze them, then leaned down slightly to whisper, "gentle, please?"

Surprised, he dropped his hands.

"No, baby," she whispered. "Touch me. Just…be nice."

Afterwards, V collapsed on to Chibs' chest. He ran his fingers through her hair. As his breath returned, so did his irritation, but he said nothing. No need to bring it up again now. It would hold. "You OK?" he asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Knackered," he chuckled. "I blame you." He kissed the top of her head, then closed his eyes.

V laid awake a long time after Chibs fell asleep. The Clubhouse had quieted significantly, with most everybody having found a spot to bed down. Chibs' breathing was regular next to her, and V had time to think. _What had gotten into him?_ she wondered. His evening's behavior had catapulted from serious concern about the next day's plans to fucking her into the bed to asking her to be his Old Lady, and none of it made any sense. He'd left her head spinning.

Though she tried to steer herself from the subject, V thought again about Fiona, and what Chibs had said about her the night before. Though she could pretend it wasn't the case, she was jealous. Chibs loved Fiona, no matter what she'd done to him or how sure he was that he would never be with her again. He was never going to be through with her-after all, he stayed married to her after all these years. And still, he'd asked V to be with him. To _commit_ to him. The idea rolled around unfettered in her brain. Why would he want that? Just to keep her from fucking other people? He had to know by now how unlikely that was to work.

Chibs clearly had some idea of advocating for her, or protecting her, when it came to SAMCRO, and V knew he was right about her need for that-with her boxing career probably done, she was a bigger liability than asset to the Club. Was his proposal simply an offer of that protection, in return for her promise of fidelity? The idea triggered a wave of irritation. He ought to know better than to think she was for sale.

Still, she had to give him some credit. He seemed always to know what she needed. He was unlike anybody else she'd ever known that way. What more than that could she possibly expect? She'd never believed Chibs' claim that he was in love with her, and had noticed that he'd stopped saying it in recent weeks. Maybe that would make it better. Maybe if he didn't love her, it would be OK.

V was still arguing it out with herself when she fell into a fitful sleep.

-0-

The morning found the Clubhouse even more crowded and tense than it had been the previous night. As V stood at the bar, sipping a cup of coffee, she looked curiously around the room. The Sons were all there, joined overnight by a few Oregon members. The conversations around the room were unusually quiet, and nobody was smiling.

"Hey, you doin' OK?" Jax looked intently at V as he walked towards her. Her face was still a mess, he noticed, but she looked like she'd slept.

"Yeah." V smiled at him. "Are you? How's Abel taking all this?"

"He's pretty adaptable," Jax smiled back. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he stopped himself. He sighed. "This thing today, seein' Darby, you OK with that?"

V nodded.

"I don't like Clay puttin' you in like that," Jax leaned closer to V and spoke softly enough that nobody else would hear him. "Not after what you've been through. I'll come with you, if you want."

"It's fine, Jax," V replied. "I'm OK. Whatever the Club needs." He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days. V laid her hand over his on the bar. "It's gonna be OK."

When Chibs walked into the room, the first thing he saw was V at the bar with Jax. They were standing closer together than usual, talking. He felt his temper rise. The weeks of sharing V had not faded in his mind, and he wasn't about to repeat them. Before he did anything stupid, though, he caught himself. It was his bed V had slept in last night. Jax had given her up. And with all the shit the Club had to deal with right now, nobody needed him making a scene.

Instead, Chibs approached V from behind and wrapped his arms proprietarily around her waist. "Just about visiting time, princess," he said. Then, looking at Jax and noticing his concerned expression, "you OK, Jackie?"

Jax nodded. He saw V's face register her surprise at Chibs' affection, but she didn't pull away.

"Ready when you are," V said.

Tig approached then, looking curiously at the way Chibs was holding V, but not mentioning it. "You gonna stay calm?" he asked her. "We can't afford to get kicked out of there today because you decide to go off."

Swallowing her indignation for the sake of keeping peace, V smiled at Tig. "I got my orders," she said. "I'm cool. That Nazi cocksucker is safe."

Tig looked incredulous, but didn't argue. "Good, let's go."

On the way out to the parking lot, Chibs spoke softly to V. "Lookin' awfully cozy with Jackie this morning, princess." He kept his voice light, but she heard the tone underneath. His hand was at the back of her neck.

When V turned to look, she saw a familiar look in Chibs' eyes and almost shivered. She initially thought to tell him that Jax was just checking on her and there was nothing to be worried about, but his expression changed her mind. Instead, she grinned. "Surely you can't expect me to be good ALL the time?" she asked. "How much fun would that be?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," Chibs replied, his voice still low as they were nearly caught up with Tig at the bikes. "I'm never gonna run out of things to punish you for."

-0-

Chibs and Tig were about as welcome as they'd expected at St. Thomas. Visiting Bobby was no problem, but it was not going to be easy to get into Darby's room. Unable to figure a way around it, they decided the best thing would be to send V in to talk to him by herself, following her if they could figure out a way to distract the staff nurse, who was watching like a hawk. Neither man looked very comfortable with the plan.

"Relax, you guys." V opened her jacket to show the lack of a holster underneath it. "I'm not carrying. I'm not going to hit him. I'm not going to strangle him. I solemnly swear that I will not in any way touch the fucker."

Chibs grabbed both of V's arms and held her a few feet away from him. "Don't be a smartass. This isn't a joke."

"I know." V returned his serious expression, then pulled away from him and walked down the hospital hall.

Tig shook his head. "I dunno, man. Keeping her temper is not that girl's strong suite."

Chibs leaned against the wall. "She'll keep it together," he said. The truth of it was that he was more worried about how V would make it through than how Darby would. It seemed so cruel to send her in to face the man who had turned her over to the Russians to be raped and tortured and tell her she had to be nice to him.

As if reading his mind, Tig went on. "Dunno if I could keep my shit together if I were her, either." He smiled. "Then again, she's pretty goddamn tough."

_Kinda counting on it, _Chibs thought.

-0-

Before she pushed the door to Darby's room open, V stopped and took a deep breath. She drew her shoulders up and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to do it. She really, really didn't want to do it. But the Club was under attack, and if this was the way she could help them, then she didn't have a choice. Steeling her jaw, she went in.

Darby looked smaller in the hospital bed, gauze around his bald head. Upon recognizing his visitor, he pawed for the call button.

Moving across the room quickly, V took the button from his hand before he could press it. "No need for that," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you." She sat in the chair near the bed, keeping hold of the call button. "You and I just need to have a chat."

"Not sure there's anything I want to talk to you about." Darby's voice was slightly weaker than usual.

It took all V could muster to keep herself from shaking with mixed anger and fear and revulsion. She kept her voice tempered. "You listen, then," she said. "I'll talk." She told him, briefly, about the attacks on SAMCRO and the similarity between the shooting at the Sons' houses and his own.

Darby didn't seem surprised, but didn't offer anything more than an insincere, "gee, that's too bad."

As V responded, Chibs and Tig, finally having shook off the nurse, entered the room. "I don't think you quite get it," V said. "You owe Sam Crow. Clay Morrow is your goddamn guardian angel. If it were for him, I'd have killed your bald ass already. So you may wanna rethink whose side you're on."

Hearing the tone of V's words, Tig began to move toward the bed, but Chibs caught his arm to stop him. V might be on the right track, and she wasn't touching him.

"If you and Clay have a mutual enemy he doesn't know about, don't you think it's in your best interest to tell the Club?" V continued. "Sam Crow is at full force. Those dipshits who work for you aren't gonna be able to do anything about it with you in here."

Darby slowly shook his head. "You are a hard bitch," he said. "But you're not very fucking bright. Sam Crow throws you to the wolves and you still come here to do their dirty work?" He laughed. "Fuck you. I'm not telling you shit, you dumb cunt. Clay wants intel from me, he can come get it himself."

Instantly, Tig was at one side of the bed, Chibs at the other, behind the chair in which V sat. "Clay sent us, too." Tig's voice and face were all business. He smiled at V. "V was just nice enough to get us in the door."

V felt Chibs' warm hand, reassuring on the back of her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his other hand, curled into a tight fist. She could feel the anger radiating from him.

"Your girl may have the call button, but I'm not too fuckin' weak to yell," Darby warned. "You boys better keep away from me."

Tig snorted. "If we'd come here to kill you, V would have done it already." He narrowed his eyes at Darby. "Let me ask you again. Do you have any idea who shot your place up? You're really only worth leaving alive if you know somethin'." He smiled again.

"I'd love nothin' more than to slit your goddamn throat myself," Chibs said. "So you'd better start talkin'."

Realizing his lack of options, Darby sighed. "I don't know for sure," he said.

"But?" Chibs prodded.

"Fuckers who shot up my place were Mexican." Darby looked at Tig. "Not Mayans."

Tig looked suspicious. "Anything like that was coming from Oakland, Alvarez would have told us."

Darby shook his head. "These weren't from Oakland. Straight from the border wetbacks." He closed his eyes. "That's all I know."

Chibs and Tig exchanged a look. Neither of them completely believed Darby, but they knew they were unlikely to get anything else out of him. Finally, Tig nodded quickly and headed towards the door. Feeling like someone else was using her legs, V got up from her chair and followed him, Chibs just behind her.


	35. Chapter 35

No sooner had V, Chibs, and Tig pulled back into the T-M lot than Gemma was at the office door, motioning for V. She held a stack of papers in one hand and had a puzzled look, clearly unable to find something. V smiled wryly at Chibs as she handed him her helmet and took off towards the office.

Getting off his bike, Tig watched V's retreating figure. "Man," he spoke slowly, "I don't even want a piece of that action anymore. Scarred up bitch is way more trouble than she could possibly be worth." Seeing Chibs hands close into fists, he finished his thought more quickly, "but your girl? She's gotta be the toughest goddamn woman I have ever seen."

As Tig walked away, Chibs stood next to his bike, momentarily stunned. Tig wasn't wrong-as much as anything else he'd seen from her, V's ability to keep her cool under pressure, even today, when faced with Darby, was impressive. What made him smile in spite of himself, though, was Tig's referring to V as his girl.

The rest of the day was busy, with factions of SAMCRO headed out on all manner of errands, rattling every cage they could think of to verify or dispute Darby's limited intel. Returning to the garage that night, Chibs was surprised by the long line of Harleys in the lot. They were gonna have a full house.

Walking into the clubhouse, the Sons were greeted like war heroes on shore leave by their assembled out of state brothers. For several minutes, the room was filled with the sounds of opening bottles and beefy hands slapping leather clad backs. As good as it was to see how many brothers would come running when SAMCRO sent out the call, Chibs tried in vain to see through them and lay eyes on V.

Unable to spot her, he tried to break away from the throng and head down the hall towards his room, hoping to find her in the same place he had the night before and impatiently pushing other possibilities out of his mind. Before he could get to the door, though, he was stopped by a loud voice.

"Scotty!" A big hand clapped him on the back. "Got a question for you."

Chibs turned to face the giant man, called Tank by his brothers in Tacoma. He didn't know him well and was surprised to be singled out. "Aye?" he asked, cautious.

When Tank spoke again, his loud voice commanded the attention of everybody standing nearby. By the end of his question, the whole room was watching. "Dark haired chick with great tits and a bruised up face, was around here awhile ago," he looked around as if trying to spot her, "she yours? Cuz I got a thing for those half-crazy bitches and that one? I hear she's somethin' wild."

Chibs sighed. This was just the shit he'd hoped to avoid, and no sooner had he walked in the goddamn door than it was in his face. He knew the answer he gave wouldn't just be for Tank, but for everybody listening as well. It seemed like even the music in the room had been turned down for him to respond. He met the bigger man's gaze and set his jaw. "Yeah," he said. "She's with me." He hoped to hell as he said it that V wouldn't do anything-or hadn't already done anything-to make him a liar.

Tank nodded and slapped his back again. "Had to check, man," he said, laughing. As Tank returned to the party, Chibs didn't meet any other eyes, just headed down the hall.

Opening the door to his room, Chibs didn't see V right away, but noticed the bathroom door was cracked. His brow furrowed, he pushed it open. She was there, lying in the bathtub, water up to her neck. The room was steamy and her eyes were closed.

"Can't even imagine the shit that lives in that tub, darlin'," he said, walking towards her.

She smiled but didn't open her eyes. "I cleaned it first," she said.

He noticed her skin was bright red and dipped a finger into the water, drawing it out quickly. "Fuckin' hot!"

She smiled again. "That's the idea." She opened her eyes lazily and looked up at him. "Just trying to soak some of the hurt out."

He took her in, thinking about what Tig had said earlier. Just a couple of days off the kind of beating she'd taken, a lot of women wouldn't be able to get out of bed. She was tough. "Pretty bad?" he asked.

She shrugged, the water rippling around her shoulders. "I always think I'm used to it, you know? Like I shouldn't even be able to feel this shit anymore. But I do." She cocked her head to the side slightly. "Everything go OK out there?"

He nodded. There was nothing to tell her, even if he'd wanted to. They hadn't uncovered anything. Thinking, then, about the interaction he'd had only moments before, he snickered. "Room full of horny fuckin' bikers out there, and your fine ass is in here takin' a goddamn bath?" It struck him as exceptionally funny. "You're a gutsy woman, princess."

V smiled. "There have to be two dozen Crow Eaters out there by now," she said. "Nobody's gonna come lookin' for me."

_Except me_, Chibs thought, realizing he hadn't even noticed how much available pussy was in the room before he'd headed out to find V. She'd been his only thought. Jesus, was he really that far gone?

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Her face looked serious now, like she was wrestling with something.

"Sure." He sat down on the edge of the tub.

V took a deep breath. Under the water, her left hand moved to her stomach, running down the length of the scar. "Does it ever..." she sighed, struggling for words. "Do you ever get used to the scars?"

Chibs frowned. V's scarred belly made no impact on him at this point, it was simply a part of her, just like her hair or eyes or tits. Just like his own scarred face. But he knew what she was asking, and remembered how long it had taken for looking in the mirror not to startle him. "Yeah," he said, "you do. Eventually. Takes awhile."

She didn't look convinced. "What about the need for revenge? How do you get past that?"

He didn't think he liked where she was going, so he deliberately misunderstood. "Shouldn't be a problem," he answered. "You got your revenge on that butcher."

V shook her head. "That's not what I mean." She reached up, running a wet finger along the scar to the left of Chibs' mouth. "Bastard who did this to you, who took Fiona...he's the Sons' Irish gun contact?"

Chibs said nothing, but looked at V with pursed lips. She knew better than to expect an answer to such a direct question about Club business. V shrugged it off. "Doesn't matter. I know it's the same guy." She looked at him with questioning eyes, but also with sympathy, something that was rare in her face. "How do you do it? Keep doin' business with him, all these years, knowin' what he took from you, and not slit the motherfucker's throat?" She leaned back, rolling her shoulders under the water. "Today...with Darby. I knew Sam Crow needed me to keep my cool, but it was all I could fuckin' do. And that was just a few minutes. Just one day."

Chibs had no idea how to respond. He knew she was asking for more than a stock line, but gave her one anyway. "Club comes first," he said, shrugging. "Personal beefs are second."

V glared at him. "Bullshit. I'm not talkin' about somebody who cheated at cards or fucked your favorite whore. The shit Jimmy O. did to you was medieval. Anybody else did somethin' like that to a Son, they'd be dead in a goddamn ditch."

Chibs' face twisted in annoyance. "It's more complicated than that." His voice was flat. "And his day will come. Greedy bastards like that don't stay on the right side forever. He'll fuck up eventually. And so will Darby."

V frowned. "So that's it? You just...wait?" It was an answer she found deeply unsatisfying.

Chibs nodded. "All you can do." He reached down and brushed her damp hair from her face.

Impatiently, V shook his hand away. "What about Fiona, then? You just wait for her, too?" Her voice turned fierce.

Chibs rubbed his forehead. He wasn't sure where she was headed now, but he was pretty certain he didn't want to talk to V about Fiona. "No," he said. "That shit is long dead." He gave V a hard look. "Why you diggin' into that?"

V leaned forward and pulled the drain from the tub, then stood and reached past Chibs for a towel. Her change in subject was just as abrupt as her movement. "Last night, sayin' you want me to be your Old Lady-where did that come from?" She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out of the bathtub. "You have to know that can't go right."

"Why the hell not? We're already...whatever we're doin'." Chibs knew even as the words left his mouth how stupid they sounded. "And I want you to be safe with the Club."

V nodded. "That I get. You want to make a trade-pussy for protection. That could work. But the rest?" she shook her head. "You know who I am, Chibs."

Chibs wanted to reach out and shake her. She had to know it was more than that, had to know he'd protect her anyway, regardless of any "trade." But he caught himself, knowing that with V it was never safe to show all your cards. "Who says there has to be any more to it than that?"

If there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, he didn't see it. Instead, she turned to him and smiled, still naked. "OK."

He raised an eyebrow. "OK?"

"OK. You vouch for me with the Club, and I'll stop fucking other people."

He hated how it sounded when she said it. Like she knew it was her only play, but resented having to do it. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved at the idea of her fidelity. Every time he touched her, he was more sure that nobody else ever should. Now was no time to get soft, though. He fixed her with a level gaze. "No more drugs. No doin' stupid shit I'm gonna have to fix."

She nodded her consent. "No crow." It wasn't negotiable.

He knew she'd say it. Wondered about arguing with her, but decided to let it go, for now. "I'm gonna mark you," he said. "But it won't be with a crow. And when I get ready to do it, I won't be askin' your permission. You belong to me now." He stepped forward as he said it, closing his hands around her arms.

At his last words, a chill ran down her spine. Feeling her shiver, couldn't tell if it was arousal, fear, or something else. And he wasn't sure he cared.


End file.
